The Demon Kings
by Silver Eternity
Summary: A pleasant Samhain to one and to all, come join us within the glorious Fall, and watch as the First gives off a prayer, and is met by one who rules in the air. The second, you'll see, is a treacherous one, when an ally of his joins in on the fun. The third is a pair that were already together...The last is alone...Warnings inside, be sure to read 'em!
1. Samhain Summonings

A/N: To my lovely, amazing, loyal readers: *prostrates self on floor* OH MY GODS I AM SO SO SO SORRY ABOUT HORMONES! *wail* I was gonna work on chapter ten right away to make up for my _over a year between posts _thing, and then College decided to slam me around and I haven't done any writing outside of rp in months. Months I tell you. But my RPS are strong and detailed and vibrant, like regular stories, SO. See our announcement, we have a joint account and Niji posts stuff there regularly 'cuz I forget. But you can get a weekly dose of insanity there!

Here. enjoy the labor of myself and my lovely girl, Niji. We decided to do a 'Samhain Special' so to speak, and...yeah. It's actually turning out to be the darkest thing we've ever done. There will be warnings, some heavy themes, always check this author's comment because seriously this shit gets crazy. *deep bow* Please accept this work- edited and compiled by the amazing Niji (go read her work by the way) as in apology for all that I haven't been posting as my deepest apology for this long and unwarranted disappearance.

Anyway, warnings, because you need them. Ohhh do you need them. **Warnings: _AU, yaoi, character death, mind-fuckery, explicit violence, dub/non-con, mpreg, bondage, light D/s. Ulqui/Shiro, Renji/Gin, Grimm/Ichi, eventual Aizen/Shinji, implied Ichi/Shiro, past Bya/Renji._**Mind you this will not be all hitting at once, just over the course of things. Always check up here for chapter warnings!

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All Hallows Eve, the night of mischief and magic. A night when the wall between worlds thinned to allow the crossing over of spirits, demons and other mystical beasts. Children in costumes played mockery to the ancient tradition of dressing in disguise, and gathered candy from strangers in hordes that rival the dragons of old. In a suburb of Tokyo, four college-age boys gathered in the apartment of their leader to avoid both the masses of screaming ignorant children and the thongs of more sedate, not equally ignorant adults. Scary movies had been watched, pranks had been played, beer had been drunk, and food had been eaten. Now, as the witching hour approached, the white-haired demon-obsessed twin of the leader exhaled noisily, letting the curtain drop back down in front of the window.

"King, I'm bored." He complained, flicking a cigarette into the ashtray on the coffee table.

His twin, duplicate except for coloration, groaned and rolled his eyes. "Dig out one of the board games then?"

The 'King's consort (rather, his blue-haired boyfriend) snorted. "Really? Board games? On fuckin' Halloween? Come on, so lame." He jeered from where he was spread out over a couch.

Their fourth, a tattooed beefcake with hair the color of blood, snickered from where he was hanging his head backward off the couch arm. "Yah, like scarin' the trick-or-treaters between beers an' settin' a jack-o-lantern in th'fuckin' town fountain was so epic."

"Shaddup, I promised to take it easy last year. And this year. So Ichi doesn't have to worry 'bout me fuckin' all the prison bitches." Grimmjow kicked at him.

"I am less worried about you 'fucking all the prison bitches' than I am about you BEING IN PRISON IN THE FIRST PLACE!" Ichigo smacked the blunette over the top of the head with his book. "You promised no having to pay court costs until we've gotten out of this shitty apartment and into a real one downtown! That means no bailing you out of jail."

Shiro snickered. "Fine, I'll find somethin'."

He crossed the room as his twin flopped down in his boyfriend's lap regardless of the man's irritation. Gold eyes scanning the shelf of games, he grinned, and pulled down a box. Proudly he placed it on the table, the glow-in-the-dark lettering shimmering lightly in the lamp light against the black and purple background.

"A Ouija board? Seriously, Shii?" Ichigo raised an eyebrow. " I know you're obsessed with magic and shit but do you have to bring it up every time we hang out? That old prophecy Yama-jii told us as kids was a story. There's no such thing as the First King."

Shiro pouted a little. "Well, you come up with a better idea then."

"The fuck's a Ouija board?" Renji asked, frowning. As a slum kid, they often ran into things he didn't know or had never heard about. When living hand to mouth from a garbage heap, anything that didn't help in surviving wasn't worth attention.

Grimmjow snorted again and stroked his boyfriend's hair. "Actually, s' fuckin' Halloween. S'near midnight—the witchin' hour, yeah? What harm c'n it do ta fuck around wit' the'thing an' 'ave a bit o' fun, babe?"

Ichigo groaned, and rolled his eyes. "Fine. It's not like doing anything with it will actually do anything, but if it makes you happy to push a little wooden triangle around a board for a few minutes, fine."

Shiro, on the other hand was ecstatic. He practically pounced to the floor on the opposite side of the coffee table from the other three. He always got like this when Renji asked about anything related to his obsession with magic. "Fuck, Red! A Ouija board is like THE best way to summon shit like demons! In ancient times wizards an' warlocks an' witches an' shit would draw symbols on the floor to contact the Other Side! An' they'd use stones an' shit to bind the demon to 'em fer a night, fer the week, fer the rest of their lives! It was fuckin' epic!"

The whole time he was opening the box and pulling the pieces out, setting them up, and shoving everything else onto the floor. As he was about to launch into a detailed description of some eviscerating devil or mind-raping curse or something equally as twisted and disturbing, Ichigo cut him off.

"Just set the shit up, Shii."

"Aw, lettim 'ave his fun, Ichi," Grimm coaxed, pulling Ichigo into his chest further. "Thissus 'is time o' year ta shin, babe. It's th'only time o' year 'e gets ta show off his knowledge o' useless bullshit."

Renji ignored the other two to watch Shiro curiously. "So? Ain't ancient times no more an' people don't got magic. Don' know how ta use it if they did."

Shiro grinned and his eyes glinted in the lamp light. "Oh they have magic alright, they just don' know what they're doin' with it."

He was wearing that special expression that meant trouble for Ichigo, which had the orangette rolling his eyes and knocking back a drink of Grimmjow's beer. The whole thing seemed pointless to the art major, but if it made his brother happy, whatever. He watched closely as Shiro positioned the slider and set the box off to the side.

"Now what yer s'posed to do is put yer hands on the triangle and concentrate on a question or a wish or something, an' the spirits from the Other Side'll answer it for ya." Shiro said, reading the instruction book that came with it. He looked all excited, like a child at Christmas. "You do it first , King!"

"Geez." Ichigo rolled his eyes again, and took another drink of his beer. He sat forward, unintentionally grinding his ass against Grimmjow's crotch, put both hands on the slider and with a deadpan expression asked, "Will my brother finally get laid tonight?"

For several moments, they all watched the silent board, waiting for something to happen—anything to happen. Ichigo rolled his eyes again, and Grimmjow smirked, enjoying both the view and the placement of the orangette's hips.

"See? I told you it was stupid. It doesn't do anything unless you push it." Ichigo scoffed, but what he didn't say was that he was putting pressure on the slider and it wouldn't move.

Little did they know how close the Other Side was tonight. Close enough that someone had felt the spiritual 'reaching out' of the board and come to see what they wanted to know of them. Slowly, the wooden triangle began to move, spelling out 'It is a possibility' before stopping squarely in the center, over the eye carved in the board. This spirit had obviously taken a moment to consider before answering.

There was a beat where they all still just stared at the board. Was Ichigo moving it or, was it really something…else? Not a one of them breathed until Ichigo whipped his hands away from the board.

"Dafuq!?"

"I told ya, King! All ya gotta do is ask. Here, lemme show ya what I mean." Shiro spun the board so it was facing him, and grinned again. Putting both black-nailed hands on the slider, he closed his eyes, and chanted. "Come Prince of Darkness an' answer my call, Fourth of the Great Ones from yer tower so tall. Claws sharp as daggers an' speed like no other, appear on this plane to my wuss of a brother-"

"Hey!" Ichigo interupted, but Shiro ignored him.

"-Until dawn's bright light you will answer to me. As it is written, SO MOTE IT BE!" Shiro grinned maniacally at the board, with bated breath.

The spirit in question chuckled- so the white one even knew his title. How interesting…he decided to take the Contract. It was only for a night and if necessary there was already a loophole- 'as it is written' in a verbal contract.

The room darkened in spite of all the lights in the small apartment being on. Above the board, a small, horizontally oriented, oval rip, swirling purple and black in the center, appeared. Slowly, it widened and lengthened, and when it was nearly as big as Grimmjow was, something white started to protrude out of the top, and slowly came up two long, twisting white horns. The figure grew in alabaster and ebony. Its head was bowed to its chest, and wrapped around its body were large, vaguely fluffy bat-like wings.

Grimmjow clutched Ichigo tightly to his chest, and Renji hid behind the couch faster than any of the others had ever seen him move. Shiro even freaked out a little as Ichigo clung to Grimmjow's shirt swearing and cursing.

"SHIT! I get it, Shii, I fucking get it! Now fucking get rid of it!"

"I can't! He answered, King. It means he took the Contract." Shiro was leaning back on his hands, staring wide-eyed at what had to be the most beautiful expanse of pure white flesh he'd ever seen aside from his own.

"Indeed," rumbled a deep, toe-curling baritone, "I did."

As it rose fully from the portal, its wings unfurled in a grand display of strength and beauty, just barely not knocking over anything. Eyes still closed, chin still tucked to the now-obviously male chest, one arched, taloned foot took a 'step down' from the portal to the floor, the portal disappearing as the second foot came to rest beside it. For being a demon, he was elegant. Poised. Even dainty. Of course, being a flying creature, his balance was expected to be excellent, and it was, but his entire posture was perfect, straight and tall. In his chest, where his sternum should have been, was a round, perfect hole the size of a fist, 'blood' marks running thick and black down his chest. Finally, his tail unwound, whipping out into the room where it knocked over a lamp, which shattered loudly. At the sound he raised his chin and opened the most dazzling poison-green eyes ever to grace any world. He surveyed his surroundings with vague curiosity.

Shiro was instantly star-struck. He panted. He couldn't help it. Porcelain skin, powerful wings, sinewy tail, long twisting horns-he was EVERYTHING the book had and more. And...was that...? Shiro tilted his head to the side, gold eyes running up and down the curvature of delicate muscle and followed the powerful, wicked talons up graceful legs covered in fur as black as pitch, to hips that were covered in the same.

"Heh..." The albino perv chuckled. "Yer nekkid."

The demon's eyes skidded over and past the Bright Ones, found Shiro and stopped. This was the Holder. And he had addressed him. He looked down at himself, then raised an eyebrow. "I have fur," he replied flatly. Then he tilted his head slightly. "What manner of demon are you? It is Written that no demon may summon another."

"Oh for Kami's sake, Shiro. Put your tongue back in your mouth! And he's not a demon. He's my twin brother." Ichigo looked nervously from the creature to his twin and back again, still clutching Grimmjow's shirt and keeping his feet tucked up onto the couch, like the childish belief that the evil thing wouldn't be able to get him if he didn't touch the floor.

Shiro could do nothing but leer. Under the fur, he was sure, lay things he'd never had to play with before, and he wanted to play. He wanted nothing more than to play. Catching the look on his twin's face, Ichigo shuddered and closed his eyes in a grimace. He certainly hoped this 'demon' was strong enough.

"Kami has no place here," Ulquiorra replied, "but your brother is correct. Put that blue appendage away. It is unseemly." Ulquiorra then nodded to Ichigo. "_Gracias, hermano del sol._" Demons often collected a number of languages over their years. Then Ulquiorra gave Shiro one last look and disappeared. The only clue to where and how he had gone was the suddenly wide-open window letting in the chill night air.

Oh no...oh no...oh no...Ichigo stared at the window, a slow chuckle brought his attention to his brother. "No...Shii"

The albino grinned wider, a psychotic bent coming to his features.

"_Shii_..." Ichigo started uncurl himself from Grimmjow's lap as his brother rolled onto all fours. "SHII! NO!"

The twins met eyes and both shook their heads in opposite directions. The albino's muscles bunched.

"NO, SHII!...SHIRO!" His cries were ineffectual as his brother cocked his grin sideways, and a small hiss was heard. "At least..."

Shiro burst through the window.

"...use the door..." Ichigo slumped against Grimmjow's chest. "Damnit."

Grimmjow clung to his lover, staring at the damn board as if it was possessed. "...tha's it. I'm burnin' tha' thing," he declared, already going for his lighter. "An' all'a rest o' Shiro's magic shit."

"_Ack!_" Ichigo grabbed his boyfriend's hand. "Do you know what kind of pissy-fit he'd throw if you did that!? He's gotta least write his thesis on this shit or his entire college career will be for nothing. You know he's a mythology major!" The squirming brought to Ichigo's attention just what sitting in the blunette's lap had done to him. A slow smirk crossed his face, and he drew one hand from his boyfriend's wrist up his arm to cup his chin, thumbing under the edge of what was left of the skeletal mask he'd plastered to his face just for the aforementioned child-scaring. "Besides...Grimmy, I wanna summon something."

Grimmjow stared at him in complete disbelief. "You want to—but—he—we—for the love of—what are you _thinking_?!" He didn't let go of the lighter, frowning deeply.

Ichigo gave an evil giggle, and snatched up the slider. He held it in both hands, away from the board, "I summon the human, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, to my bedroom to be my sex slave until either he passes out or I do." He bit his lip, and tossed the wooden triangle, "That is, if he can catch me." And he dashed off down the hallway towards the room the two vibrant-haired males shared.

"You...uh...FUCK! I've been summoned!" Leaping to his feet, a perverted grin cracking his features Grimmjow abandoned the board completely to chase his demonically-fast little lover without another thought to any of the shit that had just happened. He had an Ichigo to fuck stupid!

Renji peeked from behind the couch. "...Goddamn it. Left behind. _Again_."

The slightly dimmed lamp light glinted conspicuously on the crystal window of the wooden triangle where it lay on the edge of the board, almost as though it _wanted _Renji to play with it. Cautiously, the tattooed redhead slunk forward, picking it up and placing it on the board, in the center, where Ulquiorra had left it. Then, frowning, he gave it a try. Hesitantly.

"Uh...I don' know if anyone is listenin'...or even cares...but if someone is, I'd like som'un ta keep me company fer a while...so long's it's not some spirit 'at's gunna try ta eat, maul, or ya know, generally cause harm ta me. S' kinna lonely bein' th' only one wit'out somebody ta be with...or in Shiro's case, ta be playin' with."

There was a childish giggle, but the room didn't darken as it had before. A cloud of mist, white and fluffy, started growing out of the crystal, by the time the cloud was man-sized, a delicate hand with bright silver claws emerged from it. The arm followed and then a second hand, followed by the second arm, walking out of the mist, pulling the body of what appeared to be a fox-boy. The silver-haired head appeared at that point, large conical ears twitching this way and that, and a closed-eyed grin accompanied the face. The creature walked on his hands across the table to Renji's knees and began walking up his body, hover its own mostly fur-covered body mere inches from Renji's. Suddenly a tail appeared from the mist curled to the left. A second bushy fox-tail curled to the right, forming a heart above the creature's head, and finally the mist dissolved to reveal long furry legs, much like Ulquiorra's before, and a third tail that wagged happily.

"Mah! Hi there, Tiger." He purred.

Renji, pressed with his back to the floor, gave a little sound he would later deny was a squeak. "Uh…hi," he replied, russet eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to comprehend the creature on his lap.

The creature licked his lips. "Ya c'n call me Gin, like mah hair." His ears flicked, and he instantly went for the belt buckle of Renji's jeans.

Renji squealed and clapped his hands to said belt to prevent him. "That doesn't even make sense—and keep your hands off that!"

"Aww, but I wan' play! Wouldja like me better like this?" A shiver rippled through Gin, and suddenly size D-cup breasts were pressed against Renji's chest, and shapely hips and legs straddled his lap, while all three tails swayed happily—just as naked as the creature had been as a male. The only thing covering now-her modesty was a strategically placed patch of fur like a built-in bikini.

The poor human's brain shorted out as his eyes went wide and his body spazzed for a moment before he flushed the same color as his hair and slammed his eyes shut. "EEP, No! No, no, no, change back, _change back_!"

"Ooh! So ya like me better as a boy? Prrrr!" She rippled again and became the male who'd first appeared from the mist. Now though his position brought his fur covered crotch in contact with Renji's jean-clad one, and he ground his hips seductively.

Renji rolled over and pinned him with his hips and hands. "I…uh…belay tha', will ya! Christ ya move fast," he muttered, looming over the smaller male, eyes burning down into Gin's as he held him down, seductive and powerful.

The answer he received was a vibrating purr, and the up-to-now-closed eyes slit open to reveal the brightest ice blue orbs he'd ever seen. "Course I do. 'M a kitsune! A sex demon."

_A pleasant Samhain to one and to all, come join us within the glorious Fall..._


	2. A Grand Chase

Outside, in the cold October air, Shiro let out an insane cackle, dashing down the street after the faintly darker smudge against the moonlit sky. He skidded around a corner, hooked a hand onto the fire escape of their apartment building and took the ladder steps three at a time. There was no way he was letting his prize get away tonight, and he only had about eight hours before the dawn would end the Contract.

The demon's ears twitched at the sound of shattering glass from the residence he'd just left. The corner of his mouth quirked just the slightest, and he spiraled higher in the air, relishing the chance to stretch his wings to their fullest. Oh, it had been so long since he had flown! He let out a triumphant cry as he executed a series of corkscrews and loops that left him nearly dizzy, tail whipping wildly behind him.

The wind was fresh in the albino's face as he swung from building to building, chasing after the shadow that crossed the moon. Damn, that unrivaled speed wasn't a joke. But fuck, the demon was gorgeous. The albino had to gather all of his strength to cross the steepled roof of the local church, and it took a nimble feat of extreme agility to swing back around the bell tower and up onto the roof of the office building next door. Alright, enough of this.

"Ulquiorra!" Shiro called, crossing his arms over his chest.

The shadow pulled up short. He was being addressed. Called by name. His _true _name. The summoner. Finding it only courteous to reply, and in no way because of the tug from deep within his soul, he swung into a tight turn, stopping in midair just inches from the man. His wings flapped to keep him suspended as he looked the other right in his gold-on-black eyes. He was all politeness, tail waving in a slow arc behind him to keep him stable. "Yes?"

"Not that this ain't fun," Shiro wasn't even out of breath, "But yer mine. I summoned you and the Contract says yer mine until dawn."

The demon's mouth quirked. "You are incorrect. While you forge a decent verbal contract, you are certainly no Paladin. 'Until dawn's bright light you will answer to me'. Well, I'm answering you. No, if you wanted a slave to obey and dance attendance, you should have put that in your Contract. I am simply _available _to answer to you until dawn."

Shiro did his best to school his features. He hadn't thought of that. Running his blue tongue over his teeth, he turned his head to the side and snorted. "Well, fuck. How about a game then?"

Ulquiorra allowed himself to land, wings arching high above them both as he hunched slightly forward, body inclined toward the other pale creature. He replied carefully, making a slightly vague gesture with one long-taloned hand, "I...I am as amenable to games as the next demon."

"You fly, I'll chase. If I catch ya, I get to fuck ya. If I can't, ya have the rest of the night to do whatever ya want." Shiro arched an eyebrow that was barely darker than his skin.

The demon frowned. "I have a slight issue with this game. I do not...what is the term you humans have taken to using? I do not 'bottom' for anyone. So no matter the circumstances you cannot fuck me. I suggest you choose better wording."

Shiro rolled his eyes. "Who bottoms doesn't matter, but fine...how's 'have sex' instead?"

"Define 'sex' for me. It seems to change every time I am summoned and I agree to nothing without knowing exactly what it is." Ulquiorra tilted his head slightly. It had been a long time since he'd spoken to a human face-to-face.

"Eh...well, ya see...erm..." Shiro's composure faded.

The only person he had any sexual experience with at all was his King, most people found out about his obsession with the supernatural and stayed as far away from him as possible, and the ones that weren't turned off by his hobbies, were already turned away by his appearance.

He rubbed the back of his neck, "Uh...I guess we'd just do what King always does ta me. Stick his dick in my ass an' ride me 'til I come." He looked a little sheepish.

"Preferably with lube." A ruffle of the creature's wings was the only indication that he knew something about sex without such accessories, and he added under his breath, nodding. "I can agree to that. Restate the game and its terms, completely."

"You fly, I'll chase. If I catch you, we'll 'have sex'. If I don't, you have the rest of the night to do as you please. Deal?" The albino didn't quite see the point in restating it, but several of his texts had described something similar so he deliberately enunciated as clearly as he could.

His answer was a grin that showed the demon's teeth followed by Ulquiorra abruptly not being there anymore and a gust of wind pulling at Shiro's clothes with eager hands to point at which direction his quarry had gone.

Tossing his head back in another manic, full-bodied laugh, Shiro took off after the mostly monochromatic demon, jumping from building to building. Then his features clenched as a thought crossed his mind. He almost missed his next step and he poured on the speed calling out as he got close, "Oi! No magic! Only physical abilities allowed!"

"That," the demon called over his shoulder, "was not in the 'complete' description of the game and its rules! You cannot simply add rules as you go along!"

"No, but you never actually agreed either! Ya just took off. That's not an explicit agreement." Shiro was keeping pace with him. How was not evident, but he was.

"Point conceded," Ulquiorra said with no small amount of respect. Maybe the boy was a budding Paladin after all. "If you can catch me, we will engage in 'sex', and if not I will do whatever I like with my night, and I will not use magic to evade you. It is a deal. Naturally, the magic of the curse that made me a demon in the first place is exempt," he added.

"Wait, curse? Which curse?" Shiro was intrigued. Wasn't there a legend? Something about a false-god that created the Four? The ashen brows knit together as he tried to remember his thousands of manuscripts and notes.

The demon slowed his flying speed enough to elaborate without the wind snatching away pertinent information. "The King's Curse," he replied. "A blood-based curse, the 'key' to which is a particular person born at a particular time and of the line of the First King."

"I KNEW YAMA-JII WASN'T LYING!" Shiro shouted and jumped, pumping his fist in the air.

The sudden shout—_right in his ear_—sent Ulquiorra's head spinning and his wings faltered, sending him into a downward-spiral so sharp his horns cutting through the air created a high whistle. He was able to correct before crashing, but hovered several feet away from Shiro warily, his left ear still ringing so loudly he could not hear out of it.

"Eh...gomene!" Shiro ducked his head and blushed a delicate dark grey.

"Forgiven," the demon replied, digging in that ear with one claw. Stupid ringing! "I know you did not do it out of malice. However, keep in mind that if the key is 'damaged' before I should find it, I will be cursed for eternity. There is only one chance for me, and the other Three who were Cursed. And when I say 'damaged', I do not mean harmed physically, but that one of the four conditions ceases to apply to my Key."

Shiro had actually stopped with his hovering quarry, because now his intuition and mental gears were running and he couldn't do both at the same time. "What are the conditions?"

Ulquiorra drifted slightly closer. The game had not officially started, and this was important. "First, they must be uncorrupted by this world. Second, they of course must be of the line of the First King. Third, they must be born during a particular age. What year is it?"

"2020." Shiro answered, a little distracted.

Uncorrupted...hmm, that could mean anything. Yama-jii had spoken of the First King often, and he'd absorbed any story the old man wanted to tell, including hints about who the First King had been and why he'd gone into hiding.

"What's the fourth condition?"

"They must be Untouched." Was the soft reply.

Shiro flushed, "Completely virginal, or just no sex with women?"

"I am amused you assume my key is male. However, I am not sure...I will check."

The demon drew his claw down the air and held out his other hand. From a tiny rip an enormous book with a dark brown cover dropped into his waiting hand, title emblazoned on the front and spine in bright gold: _Compendium of Terms for Curses, Deals, and Contracts_. He flipped to the relevant section and skimmed the page until he found what he was looking for.

"It appears one can only lose 'virginity' in magical terms by having sexual relations with the opposite sex. So 'just no sex with women'." With that, he shut the book and simply let it drop; it disappeared back into the same ether from whence it came.

Shiro blushed deeper, he hadn't even thought of the implications of his question when he had asked. His best friend was a lesbian, and he didn't think the demon understood that often women slept with women these days. He shook it off however, as his memory brought him a snippet of the last story his Yama-jii had ever told him before the old man died, "Well, according to the legend the First King's blood line results in only male heirs. Though they may have daughters, the first born is always male."

"Naturally. And the King's line is also extremely prone to twins. 'An heir and a spare', as the phrase was coined so...distastefully around the Victorian Era. However...according to my calculations, my key...has been born. And is likely still young, perhaps near twenty years in age." Ulquiorra frowned. "But there is no way to find him...if it even is a him."

"Doesn't the legend say he'll find you? At least, that's what Yama-jii always said." The albino cocked his head to the side and scratched absently at his temple.

The demon shrugged. "I am cursed and damned. I am not privy to all the details."

Unbidden, Shiro reached out his hand to touch the porcelain cheek in front of him, the gauntlet on his wrist glinting in the moonlight. Gold met emerald, and his breath caught, spell-bound by the power of the demonic male in front of him.

Ulquiorra was also held by those golden eyes, swimming in a sea of black, and didn't know what to make of it. He had been deprived of emotion much too long—he couldn't handle it. His wings flaring to their full extension, both in height and length, was the only clue aside from the absolute panic suddenly in his eyes before he straight out bolted, disappearing so quickly his departure left a buzzing sound.

"Shit." Shiro swore, and whipped around.

He'd heard of the demonic flit before. It was briefly mentioned as a means of immediate escape. With no sign of the enchanting male to be found he cursed again and took off for Tokyo Tower. At least from the roof he'd be able to see the sky in all directions without impediments.

Ulquiorra's last visit had been a thousand years ago—he _ran into _Tokyo Tower. Head spinning with pain, he spiraled slowly upwards, trying to figure out what the hell it was. What was the purpose of such a towering structure? What was it made of? As he came up over the top, he was truly a sight—wings in full extension as he came gliding in, one leg tucked up and the other extended to hit the roof, tail curving over itself in two places gracefully, horns glinting in the moonlight. He needed to land—his head was killing him.

Shiro, having just emerged from the service hatch on the roof of the observation deck, latched onto that graceful tail as it arched past him. He leered at the beautiful creature above him, and licked the tail tuft. He truly only meant to guide the demon to land, but his gesture was rather lewd. He took Ulquiorra thoroughly by surprise—so much so, his wing muscles froze mid-flap, causing him to plummet the last few feet directly. Clutching his head and cursing in about seven dead languages as those treacherous appendages caped his body protectively.

Shiro, for his part winced, and tried to soothe the fur in his hands. "You alright? Running head first into a bullet-proof glass window isn't generally a smart idea."

"Into a what-proof what window?" Maybe it was just the hit, but it sounded like words he'd never heard before. What on earth was the little sort-of-mage talking about?

"Well, the glass." The albino pointed down at his feet, "Of the observation deck. You ran into it."

"The fuck is _glass_," he stumbled over the unfamiliar word, still rubbing his head.

"The...shit...how long have you been gone? The see-through stuff." Shiro marched over to the edge of the circular platform high above the Tokyo skyline, crouched down and carefully leaned over the edge, knocking on the glass making a soft ringing sound. Only his favorite non-research-based hobby made it such that he wasn't fazed by being hundreds of feet up above the ground with no safety cables to anchor him.

"It's been roughly a thousand years since my last summoning. I think. Damn...'glass' hurts," He grumbled, tail lashing slightly.

"Well, yeah," Shiro laughed, "When ya run into it headlong, it's gonna hurt. Lemme see, ya might've bruised your skull or some shit."

"I highly doubt it," Ulquiorra snorted, but bent his head. One horn was chipped, near the base, but other than that and a nasty purple bruise on his scalp he was fine.

On impulse, Shiro kissed the bruise, much like he would have done if it had been one of his little sisters, and chuckled, "Yer fine. Guess yer head's harder than it looks, ne?"

"You have no idea," he replied dryly, wings flaring as he attempted to get back in the air.

Injury or not, he didn't want to waste any time he could possibly spend in the air. However, he misjudged the exact location of the steel pole atop the tower. He now hung from said pole by his wing, tail knotted from the sheer pain as his body curled and he held his head. _Right _between the goddamn horns!

Shiro winced, and tried desperately not to laugh as the previously straight pole now bent at a fifteen degree angle. "Oi! Steel is worse than glass. Git over here."

Ulquiorra hissed in his general direction like the injured animal he was, his other wing sweeping down to brace his body as he dropped to the little platform at the base of the pole, eyes still crossed.

Rolling his eyes, the albino stepped back a few paces, then ran across and up the nearest steel girder to hook his hands over the first I-beam. Once he'd hauled his feet up to it, he was immediately running along it. Then he was hauling himself up to the next one. Moving from I-beam to I-beam in a fair imitation of a cat, until he stood just below that platform, now another twenty or so feet above the observation deck.

Shiro swung up onto it, and reached out slowly, palm facing the demon, "Easy now. Shh."

He whispered, his other hand reaching into his pocket. He drew out a pink quartz crystal and offered it to the demon. When the other did nothing but sink into a crouch, the albino shifted closer, extending the crystal to hover over the demon's head. Pained, unfocused emerald eyes watched him with guarded curiosity.

Closing his own eyes, he began murmuring, "Brigid, Apollo, Ebisu, and Eir, attend to my voice and hear my prayer. Give to me strength out of history, that I might heal this injury. Through the Earth's salt and grain, make Your servant hale again. By the power born in me, I humbly ask, so mote it be." The crystal glowed a soft pink.

As the bruise faded, and the pain with it, Ulquiorra's vision straightened out from its doubled state and he frowned. He was—well, he was damn impressed. It was rare to find a human who knew how to properly call for aid even in times when Magic ran rampant and wild. "Humans have advanced far in the years I have been suspended in the darkness...and you know the Arts."

Shiro's blush was back. "I...uh...Don't tell King 'bout this. He thinks 'M weird 'nough as is."

He shoved the crystal back in his pocket and backed away, no longer feeling like giving chase. He always got touchy-feely after a healing spell, though no one else had ever actually witnessed him doing it, and he knew better than to think that grabbing the demon's tail counted as catching him. His hands in his pockets, he scuffed his shoe on the platform and leaned against the pole, nonchalantly. He took a cigarette from his other pocket and lit it with a flick of his thumb over the butane lighter from the same pocket. After a long drag, with his eyes closed, he sank down to dangle his leg off the edge and spoke again.

"Dun' worry 'bout the game. If ya wanna fly fer th' rest of th' night I won't stop ya."

Ulquiorra watched him a moment, wings half-flared. Then there was a sound in his ears—a heavy 'whip whip whip' of something large and sharp, cutting and beating the air. He had no idea what a 'helicopter' was, so it seemed to him that another demon, a rather dangerous one by the sound, was nearby. He swept down upon the white creature, picked him up, and used his wing on the bent pole to slingshot himself and his now-cargo off the building and into the air. Wings beating hard to escape what he considered danger, he held the human so close to his chest he could feel their heartbeats synchronizing. This was his human! His mage! He wasn't sharing!

_...and watch as the First starts with a prayer, and is met by one who rules in the air..._


	3. Lover's Wrath

**Warnings: Character death, explicit violence**

* * *

Across town, at a club called 'Sin', the silver kitsune wound around his red-haired partner, purring in his ear, "Ya regret anythin', Tiger?"

"Can't say I do, so much," Renji replied, "unless we're countin' th' whole... accidentally lettin' ya inta my head thing."

"Heh, but tha' was fun~!" Gin giggled, leaning on the larger man's shoulders, hovering just above the pavement on his mist cloud.

"Mmm, real fun, 'cept fer tha, ya know, seein' of m' last boyfrien' an' all. I mean Jesus." he rolled his eyes. "Got 'chu all ready ta fuck somebody up."

His giggle took on a dark edge, he'd still gladly hunt down the dark-haired prissy-bitch that had thought it was fun to play with a fire-hair like his Tora! He curled one of his three tails around to tickle Renji's cheek. "That'd be fun too."

Renji turned his head and nipped at it before he could police himself, then abruptly realized that was enticing behavior and muttered an apology. Damn him and his weakness for smooth, silky things!

He almost had him! The grin on his face got wider, as the kitsune inched around on his mist, trailing his tails across the back of the redhead's neck, holding his hair aloft with daintily clawed hands.

"Yer still too tense, Tiger." He purred.

Renji breathed deep and tried not to growl—he'd found out the hard way it was an understandable language to Gin and apparently he excelled at talking dirty in Canine. "Mebbe so. Never did find ya somebody ta fuck...or som'un fer me ta fight," he added under his breath.

"We could solve both at th' same time, y'know." This wasn't the first time that night, the silver-haired male had suggested getting into the human's pants, but at least he'd toned it down from trying to rip the other's belt buckle open, that was an improvement wasn't it?

Only a little. Renji, the sex demon would eventually find, was beset by the most cursed affliction a kitsune could possibly conceive—but that was for later. "Nope. That's why we're out 'ere, 'member?"

"Too true, Tiger, too true." He looked around a bit, this was the fourth such club they'd been to, and the closer they got to their destination the more agitated the redhead seemed to get. He giggled again, and pulled his human along by the ponytail. "I think this'll be th' perfect place though. I never leave empty-handed from 'ere."

"M' not surprised," Renji muttered ill-naturedly, then groaning when they came up on the place and he realized who was working the door tonight.

"Oi! Red! S' been fuckin' ferever man!"

Dear unmerciful Kami, why did it have to be him? "...Hi, Z," Renji said with a deep sigh, rubbing the back of his neck and staring at the ground.

"OOH! Ya know this place?! Sweet!" Gin practically launched himself from Renji's shoulder. "HI KEN-CHAN!" He called brightly, mid-leap at the tall, dark-haired, scarred bouncer.

Kenpatchi held out an arm to catch the kitsune. "Fuck yeah! Goddamn G, we been missin' yer foxy ass 'round 'ere!"

"Mah. I had a bat ta take care o'. He's a'ight now though." The demon giggled, wrapping all three tails happily around the bigger male. "He needed a push in th' right d'rection, if ya know what I mean. Fufufu. Same as this one." He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at Renji.

"Aw Hell, G, Red's wound tighter than a goddamn watch-spring. Don't be even kiddin', he don't need a push, he needs ta be dragged over the cliff kickin' an screamin'."

"But who d'ya know is better at draggin' th' unwillin' than me?!" The vulpine male flashed a toothy, sadistic grin, without opening his eyes.

"Mmm. Hard part is—" The bouncer snagged the man's shirt collar and dragged him back from where he'd been trying to slink off, "is he's a sneaky lil' shit too. Gotta keep 'n eye on 'im."

"Aw, Tiger," The kitsune pouted, "ya keep tryin' ta sneak off like tha' an' I'll start thinkin' ya don' want me 'round no more." He was hanging over Kenpachi's shoulder, tails waving in the air and thoroughly entertained.

Renji flushed and mumbled something that wouldn't have made any sense even if it had been audible.

Kenpatchi snorted. "So were ya...lookin' fer somethin', G, or jus' in tha neighborhood?

"Tiger wants a fight an' I wanna fuck. I'd rather fuck 'im, but," Gin shrugged. "I'll take what I c'n get. 'Specially if one'a m' fav'rites is dancin' t'night."

The bouncer snickered. "Ah, G. What'd ya 'ave in mind? Rather, who? It's fuckin' Halloween, everybody put on their best. Most everybody's booked a'ready."

Sighing dramatically, the kitsune thought for a moment, "Ooh! I haven't seen Ran-chan in ages."

"Ran-chan's got the night off. New boyfriend. Sorry man." The mountain of a man in liberty spikes thumbed his nose.

"No yer not," Renji shot back, "_YER _her new man, Z!"

"Ooh~!" Gin slipped his hands into the collar of Kenpachi's shirt, his claws delicately teasing the tanned and scarred flesh. "Bad, Ken-chan! What'll Yachi-chan say if things don't work out?"

The big, bulky man just grinned. "If Yachi's got anythin' ta say about it, Ran'll be stayin'. Now we jus' gotta convince the girl m' cock's good enough ta stick aroun', ne?"

Renji rolled his eyes. "Oh _please_."

"I know, I'm the best fuck she's ever gonna have, but we gotta make sure SHE knows it," Kenpachi replied slyly.

The silver fox giggled, "Mah, yer pretty good, Ken-chan, but So-so's better I think. Guess it's a good thing he's gay?"

Gin rolled over to hang upside down, supporting most of his weight on his mist-cloud, and tails swaying gently, one of them just brushing Renji's shoulder.

Renji chose not to react, neither to nuzzle it like he wanted to nor brush it off.

"Great thing he's gay. He's also busy t'night...fuckin' some bright young thing. Kid named Ishida. Nearly as smart as So is—So jus' love fuckin' 'im stupid." The bouncer rumbled.

Gin actually pouted after that one. He sighed, "Well that's two outta three. What 'bout Kira-kun? Nothin' like So-so, but...eh...beggers can't be choosers."

His tail, seemingly of its own volition curled around Renji's neck as the kitsune propped his chin on both hands, his elbows dug into his mist-cloud, but the redhead continued not to react.

"Well, Kira's out sick. Got pushed a lil further...than normal, I guess. He can' hardly move. S' cute, but ya can't fuck 'im in that condition. Jus' three? Why ain'cha askin' 'bout—"

"Z, ya finish tha' fuckin' sentence an' I'll tell Yachi it 'uz you bleached all 'er pink tutus."

Gin looked between the two, then deliberately slapped his tail over Renji's mouth. "Not askin' 'bout who?" He tilted his head, and counted on his claws, trying to figure out who he'd left out.

The bouncer looked from Gin to Renji several times before shaking his head. "Sorry G. He ain't kiddin, an' I know better than ta let mah demon-child fin' out _that_."

Renji managed to, despite the tail, wear a distinctly smug expression.

Gin glared over his shoulder, a decidedly wicked expression, and drifted closer to the redhead. "Well, if he's not allowed ta finish th' sentence, then ya'll jus' hafta do it fer him. Or wouldja rather I dove inta yer mind again? I just _love _learnin' 'bout yer ex's." He purred dangerously.

Renji gave him a dark glare and opened his mouth to reply with something caustic but was cut off and interrupted before he could.

"Oi! Rage! I thought'cha quit!"

Renji blanched.

"Rrrrage?" Gin purred again, stepping down from his cloud to saunter over to the stranger. "Who is Rage?"

"Red Rage—him!" The man pointed to Renji, who was already taking a step back. "He's the club's Fighter, but he jus' disappeared one night, word was he quit. Christ, nothin' sexy as him stalkin' up on stage an' takin' control right after a fight, still sweaty and bloody from the battle, ready ta fuck shit up..." the man shuddered, toes curling. "Never could figure why he'd quit."

"Oh, really now..." The kitsune prowled back to the redhead with a strange smile, stranger than his typical fox-grin. "Zat why ya itchin' fer a fight there, Tiger?"

Renji growled under his breath. "...Mebbe part o' it. M'broke so th' cash don't hurt either."

Gin chuckled, "Well, then let's scratch yer itch, Rrrrage." He purred on purpose, and the redhead felt his rear pinched by a phantom hand.

Renji swatted the air, growling fiercely when he realized it was a trick. The man who'd identified him as Rage leaned against the brick wall of the club, pulling his shirt away from his neck and panting hard as his eyes glazed over.

Gin giggled again, dancing from the redhead's glare with his signature grin. Then he caught sight of the stranger, "Mah...nii-san, daijoubu?"

"Mmmn, j-just...j-jus'...Rage's aura...mmmmfuck...the look in his eyes...so delicious," he moaned softly, just watching Renji, already anticipating the 'transformation'.

Renji was still growling a little, and his eyes were darkening slowly. All that was needed to complete the picture, to create his Rage, was to let his hair down, furrow in his tattooed eyebrows, and lose the shirt. Maybe add some blood and bruises.

The kitsune purred again, "Mah! He is scrumptious, i'n't he? But I think..." Suddenly the hair-tie holding back his ponytail snapped, and the knot on his bandanna slipped. "Much better, ne?" He giggled again, holding to two offensive articles somehow magically in his hand, as the crimson strands broke free.

Renji's growl intensified, eyes going dark and dangerous, and the stranger melted against the wall climaxing messily in his pants. "There he is," he panted softly. "There's Rage."

"OH, Tiger-san." Gin too began to melt. If he had wanted to be fucked by that creature before, now it was a million times worse. "Prrrrrr. Ken-chan! Find my Tora sum'un ta play wit'! He d'serves a treat fer puttin' up wit' me."

Kenpatchi gave Renji a look. "Which level, Red?"

Renji's voice was still thick with his growl. "Gold."

"Got it." From inside his coat, he withdrew a little black book with gold leaf on the edges of the pages. He scanned this for a moment before snapping it shut. "...Bya's due tanight."

Renji was visibly torn between anguish and pleasure for a moment before consciously settling on unholy glee. "Fuckin' perfec'."

"Bya?" The silver fox slid over to the mountain of a bouncer, "Bya? B-ya-ku-ya?" He let the smallest of slits in his eyelids glint ice blue, enunciating each syllable.

"Tha's 'im," Kenpatchi replied before his brow furrowed in confusion. "Wait...how do _you _know 'im, G? He don't work 'ere."

Renji was already striding away— going towards the separate club where the underground fighting ring was stationed.

Gin gave Kenpachi the grin that he reserved only for those that would die by his claws. "He hurt m' Tiger. He hurt 'im bad, Ken-chan. Nobody gets away wit' hurtin' what's mine. Ya know tha'."

His form shifted, two of his tails disappearing as he walked, and grew slightly taller, more the height of an average man than that of a woman. Before clothing covered his frame, a kosode, shitagi, hakama and haori from the Edo Era, the bouncer watched corded muscle ripple gently betraying the hidden physical strength of the kitsune. He waved with his tail, following his redhead.

Kenpatchi was left to wonder if it was a good or bad thing the kitsune had claimed Renji—and who it was good or bad _for._ Byakuya...well, he'd be lucky if he lived.

Renji only gave Gin a glance to be sure he kept up, body language all power and anger and aggression, lithe muscle moving under tanned, tattooed flesh much like the tiger the fox called him. Internally the fox demon purred, but he let it be translated into a low, predatory growl, the slits of his eyes glowing slightly in the darkness of the underground chamber. It was certain they would be beacons if he allowed his lids to open all the way.

"Tiger, Tiger, burnin' bright...ne, Tora?" He rumbled, near the redhead's ear.

Renji's gaze burned through the darkness, a red glow the color of blood. "Like a demon in the night," he purred in reply, sensual and dangerous, for once enunciating very precisely despite the word change. "Put me on the roster," he barked at the pit boss, who took one look at Renji and started to shake.

"Y-yes, sir! Wh-who will y-you be—"

"Kuchiki," he snapped, feline quickness at work.

"Got it!" The man replied, voice high and frightened as he pressed back into the wall.

Gin very, very much liked the change in wording. Oh yes, this was one he'd enjoy once he'd caught him. "Go get 'im, Tiger."

The kitsune let his power trail over the lines of ebony, stained over golden skin, lighting each one on fire for a moment to make his wildcat truly appear as dangerous as he was, then made his way silently to the spectators seats. He'd let the scorned lovers fight alone for a while, but if things looked to turn deadly, at least on the part of his redhead, he'd intervene and mete out the kind of justice only the Abyss could create.

Byakuya had to have been surprised to see Renji, but Renji didn't care. He was finally confronting the source of his greatest internal pain. The anger, the betrayal, the pent-up passion, even the desperate love he'd held was a swirling hurricane in the depths of his soul, melding into an endless surge of adrenaline and spurring on a torrent off sheer _rage_. How dare Byakuya do it! Take his love, his _virginity_, all he had to give, and give back nothing but pain and—when his family found out and demanded he break off the relationship—cold indifference?! Renji prepared in the 'waiting area' for fighters—he was naked to the waist, his feet were bare, his hair was pulled into a tight, low braid, and he had donned his trusty brass knuckles on heavy hands. To most, wearing brass knuckles 'raw', without gloves or any other protective covering, was stupid as they'd cut up their hands. Renji had...a unique protection, metal implants in his knuckles, just barely below the surface of the skin. They worked to brace the back, flat edge of the knuckles. He needed his fingers free to grab.

The announcer called the fight, bringing a roar from the gathered crowd. This late in the night all of the patrons, save one, were plied with ample doses of alcohol, and the news that Rage was back in the ring pitted against the only fighter who'd ever come away from the redhead's furious assault unscathed had the drunken slogs caterwauling and raising the roof. The raucous noise brought an already haughty brow even further up the porcelain ridge than it had been. Truly seeing his ex-lover again after all this time was something he'd never have expected, and the worthless monkey had the nerve to try and step into the ring with him?!

Sweeping through the entrance tunnel to the steel-mesh cage that protected the onlookers as much as it trapped the competitors, his disdain for the place wrinkled his nose. His waist length ebony hair flowed freely, something the heel was proud of, and his loose over-robe gave him the appearance of a prince from long ago. Kenpachi and another bouncer, a black man with a strange star-shaped afro, opened the gates to allow his entrance. He relished in the equal measures of booing and cheering he received, and allowed a small, haughty smirk to grace his lithe features when the lock slid back into place behind him.

"So, we meet again, Rage. Come to jump once more at the moon?"

In a move completely uncharacteristic of the man, Renji did _not _reply, nor trash-talk. He simply snarled, wordless and guttural. Gin could understand it, especially at the volume he was using, but in the audience, the vulpine man did nothing but watch. There was something on the air…something heavy, like the scent of blood, and it drew his attention like all other sins. His Tora's name was Rage, but his Sin was Wrath, and it was thick, like a gravy in the air—spicy and burning at the kitsune's nose.

Renji's eyes burned the deepest red, lip curling to bare his teeth and he paced his corner, malice rolling off him in waves. Typically, he carefully policed himself. Never went too far. He didn't want somebody's death on his conscience, after all. But tonight, he'd figured it was okay to slip his leash. Just this once. Against just this person—the strongest fighter he'd ever matched up to. At least, while keeping himself in check. The crowd, the arena, even Gin had ceased to exist to this creature of rage and violence. All that remained was Byakuya and the Bell that would tell him it was time to start his assault.

The noble's eyes darkened, and the corners creased, but there was no more time to think as the bell sounded and Hell broke loose. Byakuya whipped his haori off, revealing the near skin-tight uniform of a shinobi. He'd be crushed if he allowed that animal within his safe zone, but first the red haired beast had to break through his thousand blades. Already palming enough steel to make a blacksmith cry, the lithe fighter's first move was to run up the wall of the cage, flinging razor-sharp shuriken at his opponent.

"In no mood to chit-chat tonight? Pity, I've missed your tongue."

_No?! I thought you'd ripped it out just like my fucking heart,_ He roared in an animal's harsh snarl, already on the move—also up the cage walls, weaving and dodging as he climbed and leapt like some insane, furious monkey. _Was why I could never fucking TALK to you, get shit straight! I'd like ta see ya keep smooth-talkin' those fucking bitches the elders set ya up with if I took YOUR tongue!_ He blocked a blade headed for his face with his arm and swung his body, letting go with one hand so his considerable weight was flung clear across the cage, leaping straight at Byakuya in a head-on charge.

So this would be personal. He'd feared it would be when he saw the roster. No matter, he'd clear away this lump of waste as he had every other obstacle that had attempted to stand in his line of sight. His foot caught the redhead in the bread basket, and they rolled, somehow, along the roof of the cage, blood splattered from where the petal-shaped blade had sliced bronzed flesh. He had out another handful of shuriken flying directly at the beast's chest, following through in the motion to return his grip to the steel mesh, glaring with a lock of hair trailing across his face.

Renji smiled—a grim, frightening thing, more of a cross between a grimace and a baring of teeth than a smile—because despite the breath having been forced out of him, he recovered all too easily. Unlike Byakuya, Renji's style, and his 'training', if it could be called it that, had been down-and-dirty, right-up-close-and-personal, no-holds-barred and cheap-shot-loaded brawls and fights. And Byakuya was _up close and personal_. His hand darted out with unnatural quickness and he took the hits, both of his big hands enclosing Byakuya's smaller, daintier ones in his own as gravity caught them and they began to plummet to the ground with nothing to support them. Renji's knee got between them and he used his weight once again to his advantage, wedging his knee as firmly as he could into the noble's diaphragm and—thank you, physics—Byakuya was pushed to the bottom and hit the cement back-first, Renji's knee still squarely in the bottom of his ribcage, a satanic grin on his mouth and something burning dangerously in his eyes.

There was a sickening crack as horror flashed through silver-grey eyes. There was nothing he could have done to prevent the ground rushing up at them, and the impact, when it happened, brought a violent cough, filled with blood, up and out of those china-fine lips. The crimson spittle sprayed across his ex-lover's face, dripping back down onto him in rivulets. It was everything that had first drawn him to the wild, red-haired man, but the flash of agony, not wholly born of physical injury, across his features was squashed as quickly as it came, though a deep-seated fear held that vulnerability in the edges of his vision. Heartbeats that lasted longer than the universe passed before he twisted his double-jointed wrists to free his hands. He felt bone grind against bone, and grit his teeth against the sensation in favor of sliding a blade across the soft part of Renji's chin.

Renji jerked his chin up, but refused to surrender his prey by actually retreating. His hands, now free, slammed the other's shoulders down and in two quick, painful, but efficient movements, dislocated both of Byakuya's arms at the shoulder, rendering the arms useless, the nerve signals interrupted. This was—this was wrong. Renji, this lost in his rage, should _not _have had the mental capacity to know that he needed to disable Byakuya's arms. He sat up, blood dripping freely from his chin onto the noble, down his neck, thick red trails winding through his tattoos. Sitting on the slim hips and pinning his legs with his own from a sort of seiza position, Renji began to pick the blades out of his chest, that twisted grin still on his face. He almost seemed to relish the pain.

He was quickly approaching the point of no return. If he was allowed to pass it, he could never live with himself afterwards, and somewhere inside he knew it. That part made him look thoughtful, though still demented, as he pulled out one of the blades and flicked it away.

"Y'know...these things 'r miiiiiighty effective. If yer opponent ain't a tank." He picked out and flicked another, nonchalant. "An' yer speed, well, ain't what it used ta be is it? I c'n remember ya movin' faster than that when I told ya I wan'ed ta git naked. Tsk tsk. Fer shame. How _could _ya let yerself fall quite," he disposed of another blade, "so far?"

The last 'petal' he picked out of his chest he held and twisted between his fingers as though contemplating it as Byakuya coughed again, blood trickling down his chin. The noble knew he had at least two cracked ribs. He couldn't feel his hands, or his feet, and something in his back was pinching something it shouldn't be. His eyes were hard, and he let the blood in his throat pool in his mouth. Then he slipped his tongue around his cheek, arched what he could of his spine and neck, and spat, the tiniest of his blades surrounded by crimson fluid, straight into Renji's eye.

Renji reared back with a howl of agony, spine nearly bending in half backwards, and roared in both pain and rage as his hands fisted—one hit Byakuya in the collarbone, having used his reared-back position to gather force, and it shattered like a dry twig. The other planted itself in Byakuya's chin, snapping his neck to the side—just barely not far enough to knock him out, so he was fully conscious, and dizzy-headed, as Renji's huge hands wrapped around his skinny, porcelain neck, Renji's eye glued shut with blood and the jelly-like substance that should have been inside the eyeball. There would be no saving his eye...and unless someone got in there _damn _quick, there would be no saving the bastard who'd just ruined his vision either.

"Th-thank...you...R-renji..." The noble gurgled, blood and mucus filling his throat as his wind-pipe was crushed. "I...l-loved...you...m-most." His eyes rolled back into his head and he convulsed, twice.

_...The second, you'll see, is a treacherous one, when an ally of his joins in on the fun._..


	4. MEANWHILE (GrimmIchi)

**Warnings: strong bondage (willing), light D's, mention of blood and spellcraft, explicit sexual content (1 of 3 chapters' worth)  
**

* * *

While Renji was being lured in by the Other Side of the Ouija board, Grimmjow was busily locking the door and divesting himself and his boyfriend of their clothes. His fingers itched to get on his lover's tanned skin, his temples ached with want of Ichigo's fingers raking through his hair. His Ichigo had Contracted him to fuck him until one of them passed out, and he damn well intended to do it!

"Mmm...Grimm..." Ichigo spoke between furious kisses. "What's...gotten...Mmm...into you?"

All he could do was be ravished, the blue haired college senior's hands were everywhere, touching, groping, and caressing. They were passionate lovers to begin with, arguing sometimes _just _to have rough, angry sex, but this was a whole new level, sweeping the orangette along like a kite in the sky on a windy day.

"You," he nipped at his lower lip, "made me a deal an'," he licked from jaw to ear, "I fully intend ta hold up," he worried his earlobe with his pointed canines, "my end o' it."

He didn't know why, exactly, but Ichigo's 'summoning' of him had caused an instant boner, and he had been drawn towards the bedroom as if possessed. Well, no, he knew why—that was just the effect his little lover had on him in general. But really, even he didn't know why he was so rushed all of a sudden.

Ichigo groaned, gripping Grimmjow's hips. His own arousal slid against his boyfriend's, drops of precome slicking the friction. "Can we...ngh...can we slow down...at least a little? I'm not gonna..." He moaned again, "Not gonna last, Grimm."

"Awww," Grimmjow pouted, "an' here I thought we was gunna have 'nother competition."

The Completion Competition, or so it had been termed, was a 'game' they'd played on a bet to see how many times they could make each other come in a single encounter. Grimm had gotten up to six. Ichigo had made it to fifteen, but that last one had knocked the orangette unconscious. Grimmjow had been forced to carry him to bed on wobbly legs. Regardless, he obediently slowed down a bit, his grinding becoming less frantic as his hands kneaded his lover's side.

The orangette laughed, "I have finals next week, I need to study. I can't afford to be passed out for three days again."

He pulled them from their position just inside the bedroom door, down onto the bed, wrapping his legs around Grimmjow's. Nuzzling along the blunette's neck, he licked the tattooed strawberry that had been their anniversary gift to each other. He swore it tasted the way it looked, and he simply could not get enough of sucking on it. Often, it was bright red and surrounded in blue-black because of the sheer number of hickeys Ichigo left. He'd turned the thing into a purple strawberry once or twice, but he didn't like that look—not after the Yumichika Incident—so he tended to leave hickeys all around it now.

Grimmjow groaned, head listing to the side a bit to give his boyfriend better access, but his hands were itching again. They trailed down to grab, then massage Ichigo's ass-cheeks as he purred, husky and dark, in Ichigo's ear. "Damn shame...mebbe that'll be m' after-finals present to ya, eh? Three days o' uncompromised bliss."

"Ooh...Grimm..." His hips hiked, it felt like claws digging delicious pleasure into his flesh, and he responded by gripping his boyfriend's shoulders in the same manner. He took the lobe of Grimmjow's ear, the one above the tattoo, into his teeth, and growled. "Get the vibrator."

_Grimmjow _vibrated at that command. "Ohh, oh fuck, yessir," he growled, dropping Ichigo to the bed, yanking open the drawer, and rummaging through it until he found what he was looking for—remote-controlled, vibrating egg and the lube. His kitten preferred to get kinky the natural way—with odd positions and some erotic rope tying—so he didn't get to use toys on him all that often.

Ichigo growled seductively, pulling out his favorite jute rope from the bag tucked behind the bed. He began by wrapping his left ankle three times, for a single column of six individual ropes just above the joint. The doubled cord was then brought in a stunning feat of flexibility to wrap around his leg three times, spiraling up to the knee. He pulled the ends under and around itself down the outside of the loops to end in a woven sakura-style knot near his ankle again. After repeating this process with a second rope on his right leg, it became more difficult to complete himself. However, his modified matanawa was an absolute must. So, out came a third rope, somewhat shorter than the other two, around his waist once, through the lark's head, and tied off in quick succession with two half-hitches six inches apart. A sakura-knot almost a foot down the cord allowed for him to slip his cock and scrotum between the twisted bindings. He moaned audibly when the bunched rope pressed against his perineum as he drew the two parts around his bound thighs, up through the gap between half-hitches at his waist, and tied off in a second sakura-weave along where his happy trail would have been if he didn't shave it.

Grimmjow played with the egg as he watched, his own jutting length weeping freely at the intensely arousing and erotic sight before him. He lubed the egg, holding himself back—if he interrupted the rope-tying, Ichigo would untie it and start all over again just to draw it out and make him wait. He hated that, but loved how the delay heightened his desire, especially when the strawberry made himself moan just by moving.

Which he did when the orangette rolled up onto his knees so his lover could aide in the next part—the kotobu ryo tekubi. Literally it was his wrists bound both together and behind his head. The end of his freedom and the actual handing of control over to Grimmjow.

As the blunette wrapped the cords first lightly around the strawberry's wrists and then around itself to create the shackles, he spoke. "I had an idea, Ichi..."

He helped the bound berry turn to face away from him. Then brought his kitten's hands up behind his head, and wrapped the excess around his waist just above the top of his crotch binding to end with an overhand knot flat against Ichigo's back.

"What's that?" The orangette tilted his head a little bit, so he could look over his shoulder.

"I found somethin' th' other day." Grimmjow explained, bringing the two ends of rope up to knot a second time, just under the wrist binding, before being threaded through the space between Ichigo's elbow and neck on each side.

The ends were then brought down across the strawberry's chest to wrap twice around both waist ropes and back around his ribs to the gap between knots on his back. Grimmjow tucked the ends between the two ropes and brought them back around, under Ichigo's arms to criss-cross just above his nipples. Back around again, this time to snag the upper waist rope in the back and to the front a third time. The blunette grasped the place where the four cords crossed each other over Ichigo's sternum, and tied a square knot. The dangling ends he wrapped back a third time to add a hexagon shape to the gap between the ropes against his kitten's spine. To finish the new binding, he brought the last feet of rope around to tie a second square knot on the starburst on Ichigo's chest, making sure to run the lines below the orangette's nipples for extra stimulation.

Ichigo looked down with a raised eyebrow; he thought he had read all of the books on the traditional knot-tying they had in the apartment. "That's new. Where'd you learn that one?"

"One of those pop-up American porn sites. They had an interesting bondage section," he admitted with an unashamed grin. "Lots of stuff on safety, and some of it I hadn't seen before, so I browsed a while."

"And you didn't share?! Did you at least save the address?" The orangette looked back up at his lover, trying to ignore the way the jute cords rubbed in all the right places.

Grimmjow grinned like a fiend. "Oh, it's in my favorites, I bookmarked it. Just kept forgettin' ta tell ya. Got some good shit on there, though. We keep gettin' distracted...an' we totally need ta watch porn together again. We have some'a our more enthusiastic sex when we're unconsciously tryin'a outdo the porn stars."

The smaller male rolled his eyes at the seme's chuckle. To think, four years ago he'd been a blushing prude. He supposed that dating someone who was literally sex-on-legs helped that. His hands were already twitching because he could smell the musk of Grimmjow's pheromones and his tongue slid out to lick his lips unconsciously.

"Yeah," He agreed absently, "Later."

Grimmjow licked his own lips. "I think I'm ready ta enjoy my treat now..."

Slathering lube on his fingers, he rubbed them a minute or two to warm it up before sliding two fingers into Ichigo's entrance, feeling how tight he was and how much stretching he needed to take the egg.

Ichigo moaned, loud and long, pressing his head against the rope between his wrists and arching his back with his toes dug into the sheets. His cock wept, twitching between the two bundles of knot-work holding him erect. Grimmjow licked his lips as his lover, his mate, writhed in their shared creation, stretching him slowly. Drawing it out, deliberately missing his prostate.

"Ngh...Grrrrimmmm..." The name was a moan as the orangette's toes curled even further.

This was the main reason they'd gotten into shibari in the first place. If not for the bindings, Ichigo would have been all over his lover and the whole thing would be finished too soon, because Grimmjow was extraordinarily weak to his vibrant boyfriend. To both his touch and his aura. To everything about him. The smaller man could destroy him, all his hard-won stamina, in mere moments. He licked his lips at the name and added a third finger, using liberal application of lube. This had Ichigo whimpering and biting his lip against the sound. His skin flushed and the ropes created a pattern in the color. In a word, like this, the orange haired uke was exquisite.

Grimmjow did his best to imprint it into his mind permanently, without deviating from his task. He was on a mission tonight, and he wasn't going to let anything, no matter how delectable, or amazing, turn him aside.

Hiking his hips again, Ichigo's legs bent at an impossible angle. A single brush against his prostate had his body clenching in a false release, the knots around his manhood holding him back, and the flesh of the turgid length darkened to a soft purple. He cried out, tears pricking the corners of his eyes with the pleasure of it.

This sight made the blunette purr loudly, taking the egg and sliding it, still lubed, up inside his lover until it was positioned right on his prostate. Then, pulling back, he pulled the other onto his knees again, so he could see his face...and turned it on.

The orangette's eyes went wide, gasping and fingers curling to echo his toes. He was sweating and panting, every breath a moan or whimper. He bucked unconsciously against it, trying to find that deeper penetration that he knew he wouldn't get until Grimmjow actually fucked him, but he couldn't stop himself anyway. He'd asked for this, and oh, did his lover know how to give it to him. The larger male held him solid and upright, watching him buck and strain against the ropes, which rubbed deliciously in all the places.

Begging eyes rolled up, dark and glossy in lust, as the vibration was increased. His body shuddered, not quite a second false release but waves of pleasure ran through him, making his nerves jump and his cock darken with fat pearls of precome making the head shine. Long-fingered hands thumbed these glistening droplets, smearing them around and smirking as the orangette gave his lover the most pleading looks yet. Oooh, he really was needy tonight, and he wasn't even quite sure why. Grimmjow gave him a couple of strokes, tongue running across vicious teeth like a large cat anticipating prey.

"T-t-taste it?" Ichigo's voice wavered as he panted, his twitching pulling the knots across his pressure points in ways that added to the vibration against his prostate.

Grimmjow's tongue flickered out, catching the pearly drop and tasting it thoroughly, before pulling back and stroking again with his hand. "Like that, love?"

"Mmmmnah!" The orangette tensed again, his mouth falling open and eyes closed. "Yeah~!" He gasped, "M-mmore...?"

His heels dug into his asscheeks, and a small wiggle made his entrance stretch such that he could manipulate the vibrator, now on its highest setting, in waves. Catching sight of this shift, the blunette leered, and swatted the taut cheek right above where his heel was holding it tight.

"Ah, ah, ah," he moved Ichigo's leg, "none of that. Trying to take control away from me, you naughty thing. You know better." Grimmjow licked his head again, cleaning away the light shine of precome on it.

The whimpering sound that Ichigo made could have been triggered by any combination of what his lover did, from the punishment to the feel of his tongue to the sound of his voice, but whatever it was that did it, he couldn't control it as it tore from his throat simultaneously with another false release, this one higher and stronger than before.

The blunette simply smirked, tugging on the star design as he came up, bringing Ichigo in to kiss him. He was going to tease him a while longer before he let him come. The orangette curled his tongue around Grimmjow's, moaning into the kiss and trying to get at least a moment of friction, only to be denied. The frustration build for the most satisfying orgasm, he knew, but being pushed like this drove him crazy.

Grimmjow pulled back, running his fingers along the spaces between the bindings, deliberately teasing him, pausing to pluck his nipples, then to lick at them, before once again trailing down to his cock. He was mush, a pile of goo held together by the cords around his body, clinging to him and holding him tighter than any embrace. This was why he did it, because of the way it kept him anchored while his lover tried to make him fly. He mumbled incoherently, moaning and gasping with each touch.

Ignoring his incoherent, incomprehensible ramblings and mumbling, the seme continued his touching. It meant he was doing his job, and was nearing the state he wanted his lover in. His temples were aching and itching again, and so was his spine, his entire body shuddering in anticipation, even his toes curling and his calves itching. It was odd, but he ignored it in favor of teasing Ichigo's balls with one hand and licking at his head again.

A lick against the underside of his cock that felt like velcro pulling against the sensitive skin and Ichigo cried out, "Lisse' atara en' templa!"

His head fell back, his eyes closed and his spine arched at an impossible angle. The air around them darkened until the only light was between them, flickering and pulsing in time with the blood in their veins, like that of a candle.

Grimmjow did it again, muscles bunching in preparation for _something _as he aimed to bring his lover over the false edge again before actually thrusting into him. There was a pulse of light across Ichigo's vision as his body reacted to that sensation of velcro again, this time falling forward until his chin touched his chest.

"Mool...en' i' Lower Rings...ten' i' mela...en' ilya nat aina'...fuck amin!" He mumbled, unaware he was speaking in tongues.

Just to finish him off without actually finishing him off, the blunette took him into his mouth, being careful of his teeth, as he slicked the underside of his tongue over the hard, delicious cock...which was somehow more flavorful than usual...he shifted on his knees, eager to watch his love be flung over that edge.

Pleasure ripped through the orangette, he screamed, but made no sound, and _something _followed that wave, just barely held back. He spoke again, panting, but no words came out. He must have been deaf with as far as Grimmjow had teased him, but it didn't matter as his hands grasped thin air that felt like his lover's shoulders, long, red slashes appearing where his nails would have torn the skin if he hadn't been bound.

Grimmjow arched, snarling as he shot up, long, red slashes appearing on both shoulders, rending flesh and blood dripping everywhere, scenting the air, and he whipped Ichigo around and bent him forward, three long fingers slamming into his slick entrance to fish out the egg, then return to mash his prostate like a game controller button.

Ichigo did it again, grabbing at the air that felt like flesh under his fingertips. This time soothing, smearing the blood as though the bindings weren't there, creating symbols and runes in languages the orangette wouldn't have been able to recognize even if he could see through the opaque film covering his vision. But they glowed, yellow, blue, red, and green across the back of Grimmjow's shoulders, burning into his skin and sending off fireworks through both of their minds.

The spell-gripped man all-out roared, elongated ears slicking back as far as they went as he planted his teeth in a free spot on the orangette's neck, biting hard as he could no longer stand waiting. He thrust in, hard and deep, dick already lubed, growling into his neck.

"Mine." Ichigo whispered in the turquoise furred ear near his mouth.

His tongue snaking out to run along the outer edge, and gripping his bound knees to Grimmjow's hips. Clenching his fingers again the symbols on the feline demon's back began to etch themselves into his chest, glowing faintly.

This only spurred Grimmjow to thrust harder, faster, his 'itch' spiraling to a point of pain all over his body, the closer he got to climax the more his whole body screamed, in pain, in pleasure, in protest, in encouragement, until all he knew was his dick plunging in and out of that tight passage, ravaging it, fucking Ichigo as hard and fast as he could without so much as a semblance of humanity involved.

The only thing holding the magic-user back from climax was that twisted rope surrounding his privates, but with each thrust, grinding against his lover, the threshold was being pushed closer and closer. His dick screamed for release and clamping his teeth on the lobe of that ear, Ichigo muttered something incomprehensible, but everything began to glow, building with their pleasure, closer and closer, brighter and brighter.

The blunette's hands took hold of Ichigo's hip's, holding on hard, and the closer he got to orgasm, the tighter he held, until—screaming into Ichigo's neck where his teeth were still clamped, Grimmjow thrust as deep as he could get and erupted, the claws on his fingers roughly severing the ropes around the slim hips under his hands.

Light exploded both psychically and physically as Ichigo came between them. He made no sound, body frozen beyond gripping his mate tightly. His mind was completely overwhelmed with a force brighter and more powerful than sheer pleasure, taking him soaring more than usual. He was free, absolutely and completely, and falling through a wormhole of swirling colors. There was an intense pulling sensation, and then the world settled again. Around him, the feline male relaxed, their bodies sinking into a downy-soft bed.

"Mmm…" The blunette rumbled. "Home."

_The third is a pair that were already together, who were not unaffected by the night's stormy weather._


	5. MEANWHILE (ShiroUlqui)

**Warnings: Spellcraft, some mention of blood, explicit sexual content (2 of 3 chapters worth), the forging of a contract the equivalent of marriage (and you know that scares the hell out of some of you)**

* * *

To say Shiro was shocked would be an understatement. To say he was thrilled would be so far out of left field that the thought might as well have been from the Other Side. However, as his wide gold eyes stared dumbfounded at the tumbling cherry of his cigarette getting smaller while the powerful wings of the demon above him carried them away from their perch, he clung to that naked being with all of his might. He wasn't afraid of heights, free-running rather precluded that sort of phobia, but this was HIGH. He'd never been this high in the air before. Even if he could get his mind to stop reeling and his heart to climb out of his throat, the wind tore away his voice before words could even form on his tongue.

Ulquiorra held him yet closer, arrowing through the sky at speeds faster than a bullet, and yet his particular aerodynamics made it possible to create a 'pocket' of safe space with his body, preventing the wind from shearing the flesh from the human's bones. The city, the sky, the world flashed by at speeds incomprehensible to the human mind, which Ulquiorra, fastest demon alive, navigated easily. He had a destination in mind—someplace safe, and dark, where he could enjoy his human in peace.

The flare of power upon crossing under the gates leading to the shrine set back in the woods outside of Karakura was unmistakable. Shiro's hand tightened slightly on Ulquiorra's chest. "I—I know this place. Uncle Pervert Hat talked 'bout it. Th' Senkai Shrine. It's called th' Sacred Gates. Why're we here?"

"Because none can visit harm upon another here…and you are mine," his voice was a low thrum in his chest as he winged his way between pillars. "I have caught you and I will let no other touch you. Or take you away. The best place to ensure you remain mine is to bring you here. I cannot take you to my Tower, nor would I if I could...this is the next best thing."

"Uh...wow..." Shiro blinked.

Shifting slightly so he could reach his gauntlet with his other arm, the albino twisted a gemstone that floated freely in a socket on the back. His costume for the night was that of the mages of old, gauntlets made of metal, a shirt with embroidered symbols on cuffs and neckline, breeches tucked into supportive boots, and a medallion engraved with more of the same symbols that adorned the rest of his clothing. To the mundane world, he just looked like a pirate or possibly a dashing hero from the Renaissance, but twisting that almost clear bead opened the channels of his clothing to respond to the ley lines that traveled under the shrine. Oh yes, magic was not lost to humans in this age of technology, but most were like the rest of his pathetic group, ignorant as babes-in-the-crib.

Ulquiorra's body rippled and shuddered and he slowed considerably. "Ah...please, do not...do that when I'm flying. It..." He shivered and lost a foot of height before recovering, "affects me negatively."

He found the alcove, the darkened, but spacious and comfortable niche, he was looking for and glided in to land, toe-talons distinctly curled. He, of course, recognized Shiro as a mage. And he would make sure everyone else knew this mage was claimed, which was partly why they were in this particular spot. It was situated directly on the Personal Ley Line that was keyed specifically to Ulquiorra's magical signature. It had been a lockdown precaution he'd taken before dying and being cursed, one he was glad of. It meant the bastards who had taken advantage of him over the years couldn't use it for themselves.

"A, gomene." Shiro apologized again, blushing slightly.

He'd never been this far into the shrine before. Though he didn't like to admit it, he was a bit of a coward when it came to the supernatural. Not only was he aware of his own limitations, he was painfully aware of the fact that creatures much, MUCH more powerful than he roamed the worlds, especially in place of power like this one. He winced slightly, a hand briefly touching his temple before he covered the motion by running his fingers through his hair. His eyes hadn't always been stained black, but these days, only he remembered that fact. The nue that followed Renji had bitten him when it realized he could see it, and the poison from the snake-head's fangs had both inverted the sclera in his eyes, and permanently dyed his fingernails black. One he could cover with nail polish, and he did so often, but the other...well that had taken a memory spell he'd crafted calling on Dionysus, for his power of suggestion, and Loki, for the ability to deceive even those closest to him. It wasn't something he liked to brag about, in spite of the power of the spell, and it had made him possibly over-cautious regarding exploring his talent for tapping into the ley lines around him.

Ulquiorra braked as gently as he could, set down, and put Shiro on his own two feet. He used his hand to tilt Shiro's chin up, and kissed his forehead—right over his Third Eye. He, being demonic, had been able to see the changes from the first. He found them intriguing.

"Come. We never set a term for what would happen if I caught you. Thus, I am going to Mark you," He said firmly. "You are a powerful mage, even as inexperienced as you are. You could help me find my Key. And I might be able to help you with that pesky little venom problem of yours. Nue are so needlessly aggressive."

Shockwaves tore through his already opened power centers, and the albino purred, the sensation rippling through his core and straight to where all such power ends up, the Sacral Chakra.

"Y-ya know? O'course ya know." He scoffed at himself. "Yer one o' th' Four."

Being in this place was making him a little power-high, causing him to burble a little, and reveal parts of himself that he would normally keep under wraps. It was why he'd opened his symbols in the first place, walking through a place as heavy in magic as this was with closed gateways was just asking for a reaction headache.

"Exactly," Ulquiorra replied.

He darted back and forth, quick as could be from one side of the room to the other, gathering dried herb bundles from magical storage, bringing candles for the cardinal points, as well as a ritual athame and a spell-book he kept wrapped securely in the curve of his tail. He guided Shiro into the center of his Power Pool and began to set up a spell circle around him, drawing in the stone with a black chalk that glowed purple on the floor as it gathered power.

"Should I take my clothes off? I know a lot o' this Markin' stuff has to be done naked, an' my amulets might get in th' way." Shiro watched, very intrigued.

It came to him in the back of his mind that maybe he should say something about his suspicions regarding the First King and the fact that being Marked by one of the Four would be an extremely powerful spell for a novice like himself, but the simple fact that one of the Four wanted to Mark him blew his mind to bits. He wasn't just an interesting play-toy, this insanely powerful demon had decided that he was worthy of being his mate in most aspects. A shiver of excitement ran down his spine again, and a purr escaped his lips at the thought that he'd never again have to worry about rejection at the hands and hearts of pitiful humans.

"It would facilitate the Marking Ritual," Ulquiorra replied with that quirk of his lips.

He had a willing participant—lovely. He could Mark him fully then. He could admittedly Mark him in less...truly claiming ways, but then what was the point in the Mark? Everything placed, he stepped inside the Circle, closed it, and began to approach, as the white summoner quickly disrobed, baring his pale flesh, branded with intricate, silvery, scars, to the moonlight.

"As with most things, this is a spell that requires verbal acknowledgement and consent- much like a Contract. Do you Consent to be Marked, to have your life bound to mine, to allow me access to your mind, heart, body, and magic, to share with me all that you are and have much of me shared with you in turn? The only replies are 'I Consent' and 'I do Not Consent', I warn you."

Shiro blinked, the weight of that question pressed heavily on his heart. His King crossed his mind, the bond they had, the connection that had lasted through their mother and grandfather's deaths, through the teasing and the bullying growing up, through the loss of their home when their father's medical clinic hadn't been enough to support four children, and finally through the hardships of college. He thought of the rift growing between them now that King had his Consort, and the way that more often than not he was left behind when the pair went out. The sting of how he looked in the eyes of those around him, and the fact that the only comfort he'd ever had outside of his King were the ancient texts he painstakingly translated after studying dead languages for so long that his vision would cloud over in exhaustion. Finally, he thought of the intricate carvings, etched into his alabaster skin, scarred over after having been irritated and re-opened enough times for the incantations to be permanent. The pain, and ache and utter loneliness that accompanied his studies. The answer was clear.

"I Consent."

Ulquiorra's wings flared high in arousal and pleasure as his eyes went dark and sharp. "You Consent to be Mine. In return, I pledge to be Yours. My strength will be yours to call on in need. My knowledge yours to utilize. My emotions yours to enjoy, few as they are. I know my pledge is not the same as a Contract nor Consent, but it is all I can offer for as long as I am cursed...and it will enable you to summon me outside of the Samhain." He kissed Shiro's Third Eye again, then his lips. "To continue the ritual, you must Confirm your Consent and my pledge thrice, preferably with kisses to seal each Confirmation."

Three was the magic number, after all—the magical 'back out clause' that made sure whoever was doing the spell were really doing what they meant to do. Knowing this, Shiro took the pale face that so matched his own into this hands.

He kissed Ulquiorra's lips, "I Consent."

Then he bent and kissed just below the hole in the demon's chest, "I Consent."

And finally he knelt to kiss the pitch fur that covered the other's Sacral Chakra. "I Consent."

From his knees, the albino blinked up into the poison emeralds of his demon and waited anxiously for the next step of the ritual. By kneeling, he had not only pledged to be Marked, but he had agreed to be the 'bottom' in the relationship, should it ever be more physical than what the ritual required. He had always been a horse for his King, and though the term 'riding' had been applied to who was impaled by whom, the one in control had always been his King. Well, now, even if he never 'rode' Ulquiorra in that manner, he would be controlled by his demon, and he wanted it made explicitly clear to the gods and everyone.

Ulquiorra's toes curled so hard his talons gouged into the floor. By all that was foul and unholy! His tail turned into a knot of flexible muscle and fluff. He shivered and gently pulled his fingers through the white hair, breathing, "And so you are Mine. Now, I may Mark you. In the circumstances, I wish to Mark you as fully and completely as possible. That will involve penetrative sex acts, biting and essentially flooding you with my magic. Do you Consent to this?"

"I Consent." It wasn't even something to think about any longer.

"Good. Now, kindly say '_servios_'," Ulquiorra said, eyes burning. "I cannot make love to you as long as my fur is holding me back, not until after you've been Marked and the curse registers you as 'allowed to touch me'. We can have fun with this form later, for the Marking I must be as human as I can get."

"_Servios._" The foreign word tickled his tongue and the power of it surged through his scars and symbols like wildfire, making him hard enough to pound nails.

There was a second ripple effect, this time much more distinct, and Ulquiorra threw back his head, snarling as his fur was forcibly retracted, tail disappearing, wings losing their light fur to grow scales instead, horns shrinking and untwisting until what was left was a man. A man with horns and wings and long, sharp black claws, green tear tattoos on his cheeks—and naked. Very naked. Ramrod-hard and naked.

Shiro wasn't even thinking any longer as that erection appeared in front of him. He immediately ran his hand along it, and drew the head into his mouth with a moan. He'd known this demon was worth playing with!

The sudden diving into the sex, into the pleasure, made Ulquiorra hiss and his wings fluttered, as did his eyelids, long fingers pulling through the albino's hair before fisting, not pulling but hanging on. It had been...a long time indeed.

Sucking deeper, Shiro inched forward, his hands leaving the glorious cock in his mouth to grip the slim hips for stability. He moaned again, his own groin tight and aching with need. After settling himself into a slow rhythm, he slid his tongue out to literally drool on his hand, then reached behind himself. Finding his own entrance and slipping his forefinger in to the knuckle was nothing, a procedure he'd done more times than he could count. Even the second was nothing, and his angle of sucking never changed. He rhythm faltered when he brushed his own prostate, but he covered it with a swallow around the delicious flesh in his mouth.

Ulquiorra was moaning like a two-bit slut, wings down on the ground behind him to function as supports as his knees trembled, eyes shut tight and hands shaking where they were fisted in the albino's hair.

"F-fuck..."

The tremble of power between them warned Shiro before the demon's scrotum could, and he pulled back, holding his balance by gripping the base of Ulquiorra's length firmly. His other hand was buried deep behind him, four fingers, and plenty stretched for the taking.

"How d'ya want me?" His voice was husky, roughened by heavy sucking and rumbling with the licks of a power that burned hot just under the surface.

"On a bed, but on your back will have to do," the demon purred huskily, eyes so dark they were nearly black. "I want to see every face you make. Every change of expression."

He gently pushed the other down, sinking to his knees and following him down, licking his lips in a manner more befitting a very different kind of demon, a much more vulpine version. The touch brought a moan from the albino's lips, but he happily lay back, spreading his legs and hiking his hips, eager to be filled. As soon as demon and mage were prone, he pulled Shiro's legs up on either side of his hips, kissing his mouth, his cheeks, and his eyes after coaxing him to close them. Still slick from Shiro's mouth, he slid easily inside his new lover and moaned deeply as his wings flared out and up.

The blue tongue, also a gift from the nue's poison, darted out to lap and accompany nipping teeth as the albino explored the demon-lover. Being filled was exquisite, a pleasure he hadn't felt in over three years as that was how long his King had been with the blue-haired Consort, and somehow knowing that this wasn't because the other felt pity for him, but actually wanted him, made the pleasure all the sweeter. He wrapped his legs around the other, silently begging him to move, and whimpering.

Ulquiorra nuzzled into his neck and gave him what he wanted—he began to thrust. His arms came around Shiro's back to hold him closer and he started to nip and lick at him. If he'd had his tail, he'd have been running the fluff sensually all over his skin.

The mage moaned, power surging through his veins. Every thrust was like taking a hit on a drug that sent him spinning into nothing and flying higher than a kite. And yet, this was better than any man-made substance he'd ever tried. He matched the rhythm, grasping with his blunt black nails, and moaning like a wanton whore.

Ulquiorra was chanting in his ear, a language so old and long-dead even Shiro didn't know it, the same set of words over and over. If asked, he would've been hard-pressed to give an exact translation; something like _I pray this never ends, I may love you and I want to own you forever, you are all mine_, in five or six words that he kept murmuring repeatedly, his thrusts speeding up as he bit Shiro's neck and soothed the red spot with his tongue.

Golden eyes shot open, glowing with the magic of the ritual. There was something...something important...burning in his core. He shifted his hips, bringing Ulquiorra's member deeper into himself, deep enough to thrust through his chakra. He moaned at the combination of sensations. Then, of their own volition his hands ran down the demon's spine to grip the place where his wings sprouted from his back. Beyond his orgasm, there was a deep magic building, something long forgotten and truly powerful. Unconsciously, Shiro pushed them towards it, hungering for it in a way that almost over shadowed his desire to be Marked.

Ulquiorra could resist no longer. He bit Shiro, drawing blood, and his magic was forced into the mage through the bite, the majority of it raging through them both in a loop that sank into Shiro's center and shoved them both headlong into that deep magic, past Marking, past even orgasm, straight into the heart of whatever it was within the other, driven and spurred on by the grip on the base of his wings—which contained one of Ulquiorra's own unique chakras, and lent him his incredible wing-speed.

The current of magic, on top of their furious pace, captured them both, wrapping around them in a golden, blinding light. If they climaxed, Shiro didn't notice as that power surged through his body greater than anything before. That deep place, that ancient spell, stole Ulquiorra's power, enveloped it in light and merged with it, overpowering the demon. The shrine shone in the darkness of the coming dawn like a beacon in the middle of an inky sea, and the flares of that sun-on-earth arced up into the sky, through the veil between worlds and out, awakening the other three of the Four from their millennial slumber. It was awe-inspiring. It was overwhelming. It left Shiro panting like a racehorse after the Triple Crown, and he could do nothing but lay underneath his lover, eyes blank but for the spark of leftover power.

"Wow..."

Ulquiorra was left atop him, panting, shuddering, body weak, and abruptly he realized something was very wrong. He tried to use a wing to level himself up and found they were not responding. He looked behind him—they were gone! His breathy cry of surprise was punctuated by, when he sat up, his own black nails being simply nails instead of claws, and his horns had disappeared entirely.

Shiro tiredly trailed a hand down his chest—his whole chest, with no hole or dark, inky, blood-like markings. "This mean ya don' wanna Mark me an'more?" He slurred a little.

Ulquiorra growled wordlessly and nipped at his neck, where his Mark was, big and bold, a gothic 4 in the same poisonous green as his eyes. Curse broken or not, he was still a demon, and Shiro was most definitely still his Marked. The albino chuckled, a wistful shiver in his voice.

"Okay then." He purred, wrapping an exhausted arm around his lover's shoulders as the first light of dawn over the horizon. A blade of fear crossed his features, as he realized that the night of Samhain was over, and his Contract had expired.

Ulquiorra turned one baleful eye on the dawn light, hissed, and drew a cloak of blackness over the room. "You will summon me again...after we sleep. For now, this stalling of night cover is all I can do. And in the next Contract, don't put such definite terms on when I must leave, ne?"

"Heh. Next time...I'll write it th' fuck down so ya can't leave 'nless ya want ta." Shiro grumbled sleepily, curling around his lover with another purr.


	6. MEANWHILE (RenGin)

**Warnings: continued explicit violence, explicit sexual content (3 of 3), some general weirdness and much spellcraft, oh, and Mpreg.**

**...okay, which male out there just fainted?! I heard the 'thump' of your body hitting the floor you sissy, get back here!  
**

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In the audience, Gin shot to his feet, dissolving into mist and ghosting through the bars of the cage. His vulpine hands were cold, and shocking out of nowhere, one on Renji's shoulder, the other over the ruined eye. "Enough, Tiger." He purred in the redhead's ear. "He's dead."

Renji started from the sudden, cold touch—the cooling, blood-sticky body beneath him—the points of needling, sharp pain in his chest and arm—the _vicious _pain in his eye and head, somewhat soothed by the cold palm. Who...what...He turned his head, remaining eye searching until he found the source. His voice was raw, soft, eyebrow furrowing.

"G...Gin...?" Byakuya's words would haunt him, later. Once he'd had a chance to process his jumbled, red-hazed memories.

"Shh, Tora, shh. Lemme work."

The Kitsune enveloped him in a cloud of his mist, the white substance cold and soothing, seeping into every cut. He'd be blinded on one side, but the pain could be eased, at least physically. Sad, brilliant blue eyes looked out of that fog that hid him from the audience, both sight and sound, "M'bright, bright Tiger, what a burden ya carry."

Renji breathed a deep sigh, frowning when he tried to open his right eye and found he couldn't. It was unresponsive. He reached up, trying to touch the spot and find out what was wrong. Why did it hurt so badly, though that was easing, and why couldn't he see out of it? "Gin...why can't I...?"

The kitsune held his paw over it. "Ya got hurt. I c'n't save it, but I c'n 'least speed up th' process. Ya won't hafta worry 'bout it itching much." With that the pain became furious itch, something deep and penetrating.

"NNngggahh!" The blade was still lodged deep in the soft tissue, and it resisted the healing process, damaging it as soon as it grew, new and soft, around it. Blood streamed, bright and hot, from beneath the lid and Renji hissed, shuddering and clinging to Gin. It still hadn't dawned on him that he'd well and truly killed someone. Destroyed him. Ended his life.

"I gotta get it out, Tora." Gin hissed, and _pulled _with something that wasn't strength—more like the mist that surrounded them.

The blade moved, slowly, inching, at a snail's pace, until it embedded itself in the vulpine's paw. Within the cloud the kitsune reverted to his more feral appearance, and the thick pad caught the tiny razor like cork on a needle.

"Ha. There." He smiled, though the expression didn't reach his eyes, which were amazingly open, bright, and clear with a message that Renji really didn't want to read.

"...Ow," Renji said softly, blinking his good eye.

There was something...strange washing over him. _Through _him. Something dark, and sweet, and Sinful. It was washing away the dull aches, and the guilt that had not yet taken full root was seized and flung far away, deep into his consciousness where it would not bother him, to become merely a point of curiosity. His tattoos darkened and rippled, extending further in preparation for the event his soul could feel coming, even if the rest of him could not.

When Gin pulled his hand away from the injury, cupping the petal-shaped blade, the eye underneath was filmed over in a milky dull red-the eye of a demon at rest. He sighed softly, eyes over-bright, and fully open in their sanctuary. If he was right, he didn't need to worry about the effect the captivating icy tone would have on the redhead. He scanned over him, taking in the subtle changes. Almost. He had almost pushed it over the edge.

He drew his empty hand down Renji's cheek, murmuring softly, and began to withdraw his mist cloud from around them, "M sorry it took me sa long, War."

Renji was confused—War? He was Rage, not—And then it hit. A sunburst of magical, spiritual energy flooded the town from the original center of power, the Shrine, and Renji's body froze for an instant before it convulsed, Awakening.

Nails extending into claws that raked and gouged the cement floor, Renji's eye once more burned the color of hellfire as the black tattoos went racing over his flesh, looking and finding their niches as conductors of his Power. Horns, multi-pronged with wicked curves and points, forced their way through his temples, branching above his head and over his back in the most offense-based protection, the most splendid war-helmet, ever conceived as from his back burst forth wire 'wings'—all that remained of his once-holy status. He howled, both from pain and from naked delight. He was Awake! He knew who he was at last! Better, he knew who—rather _what_—Gin was.

He turned on the fox, eye burning as he wrapped both strong arms around him, quicker than thought, and pulled him right up against his heaving, blood-soaked chest. He snarled, his hair tongues of flame licking the air, buffeted by the freed power whipping around them, "Mine."

The kitsune purred, and wrapped himself around his redhead. He licked blood and sweat from Renji's cheek, still approaching from the horseman's good side as he knew that the Vision of War would take some getting used to, and grinned "Oh, yes, Tiger. All yers. What say we leave th' humans beggin' fer more an' take this sum' place more private, ne?"

Renji's grin was all demon as he kissed the kitsune with the same fierceness with which he held him to his chest. "Sounds fuckin' perfect."

He rumbled in a gravelly growl, body lifting up onto the balls of his feet before, in a blast of speed that ripped the air, he was home. Not his human home, his _home_, in the Shrine, in his center of power, where he threw up a privacy ward, summoned his bed, and threw Gin down before tearing off his clothes.

"All mine," he repeated, voice lowering to a purr.

The kitsune drew his hands up to his chest, all playful innocence and trickery. He purred, "Gonna Mark me, are ya?"

"Damn fuckin' right I am, an' I 'spect ta be Marked in return, Foxy," he grinned, wings flaring as his pants disappeared with a flick of his wrist before he pounced.

"An' ta think, jus' a couple hours ago, ya didn' want me touchin' ya there." The silver haired male, took both hands and wrapped them around the pulsing, thick length above him, stroking gently while vibrant eyes watched the newly Awakened demon above him. His tongue snaked out to lick his lips.

Renji's eyelids fluttered before the vow came back to him at Gin's words. "Nnghaa, Fuck!" He pulled away, sitting up on his knees, hands raking through his hair until they hit and gripped the base of his horns. "Fuck! I can't believe I…so stupid…I-I-I can't. Damn me to the Abyss, I _can't_!" He looked positively forlorn, his expression suggested he was about to cry.

Gin propped himself up on his elbows. This was the first that the other had actually said anything useful about his shying away from the kitsune's advances. Up to now it had all seemed like playing hard to get, which only enticed the demon more, but this...this was something different.

He glared, "Whaddya mean ya 'can't'?"

"I...Byakuya hurt my human self so badly I...made a Vow." Renji's elongated ears drooped, and he wasn't looking Gin in the eye. Whatever his Vow had been—well, it was obvious Gin was _not _going to like it.

"A Vow? Not jus' a vow, but a Vow?" Ice became electric as the vulpine squinted his eyes. "Yer human form wasn' even aware o' magic, how could ya 'ave made a Vow?"

"Enough o' m' Knowledge carries over through my rebirths that my genetic mem'ry knows how ta make Oaths, Vows, an' th' like," the newly Awakened demon mumbled, fidgeting. "An- an' he really hurt me bad, baby. Enough ta...ta...ta..." his eyes squeezed shut as he delivered his horrifying, heart-breaking news. "Ta swear off all sex ferver."

The kistune shuddered, eyes going wide and horrified. "He...what?! How could ya?! Ya...'M gonna...sa help me, Tora...!"

He sputtered, pushing the much larger male back off of him, his own power growing and whipping around the room in a cold, icy wind that made the tribute candles flicker and put frozen condensation on the windows. His tails were still and bristled as he dropped the pretense of appearing human. Long, sharp canines took over his mouth as he bared his teeth. His conical ears lay flat against his head, and his claws dug into the tatami mats, worrying the tough straw when he landed on his feet to pace the room. After a few moments, he whirled on the redhead.

"Where is it? Vows al'ays leave a mark o' sum' kind. Where'd ya put it?"

He scanned every inch of Renji's skin, lifting his arms, his legs, spreading his toes, grabbing his horns to sift through his hair, pushing his still injured chin up to analyze the column of tattooed neck. All with a low growl and rough handling.

"S' on m'belly, where I saw it every day," he replied, with an 'eep' at being manhandled.

Though it was rough, now that his demon toughness was brought forth it wasn't really painful. But telling a sex demon he could never have sex with them? Never touch or take pleasure? Ohhh that was like telling the heroin addict there wasn't any when they were already going into withdrawal.

The symbol on his stomach was in a deep pink- the color of Byakuya's cherry petal blades, to remind him of why he'd made said Vow. It was a simple circle that swirled inward, with a diagonal bar across it indicating forbiddance.

Both hands on the redhead's shoulders and disregarding his new wings, the fox-man shoved him back onto the bed so his stomach was exposed. Glared frozen daggers at the sakura-colored mark, he growled low, and examined the accursed thing barely inches from where it stained his wildcat's skin. He sniffed it, snorted over it, traced the design with a claw just barely light enough to avoid cutting the flesh, and finally shifted his glare back up to the crimson double-vision of the demon beneath him.

"How could ya..." He rumbled, but it was unclear whether the repetition was painful or angry.

Renji's ears pressed back further in disappointment, sadness, and a deep, ringing pain; a soul-deep pain. "...There's a human sayin'...'ya can't rape th' willin'. Except ya can. Especially if yer 'willin' is a scared virgin an' when he pleads wit'chu ta 'stop', ya pretend ya din't hear 'im."

The kitsune ripped his head away, a growl, deeper and more violent than any he'd previously released tearing through the sacred buildings like a hound on the loose. The wind itself invaded the caretakers' beds, brought their dreams into nightmares, and filled the whole quarter of the city with a cold dread that none could quite name. Sex denied was one thing. Forced sex was something else again. Something that precious should never be twisted like that, and the vulpine demon made it clear. If the man wasn't already dead, he'd go back and teach him the true meaning of death.

It took several moments, but Gin composed himself with a shiver. "How 'xactly did ya say yer Vow, Tiger?"

His brows furrowed as he took a moment to call the words to mind. "...'I am never going to have sex," he enunciated clearly, "with anybody for as long as I live, be it oral, anal, vaginal, or any other way that can be devised.' That's what I said, word-fer-word. I never wanted ta feel hurt like tha' again, nor inflict it on anybody else."

A sly smile curled the fox-man's mouth and a spark of something lit his eyes. "Ya said 'anybody', righ'?"

Crimson and ebony ears perked—he was a creature of violence, not intelligence. The little kitsune seemed to be thinking something. "Yeah, s' what I said."

"I ain't 'anybody'. 'M yer 'key', Tora no ai." He purred, delicate claws running up the thick, corded muscles of the Horseman's legs while he slunk back up the bed. He chuckled deviously. "S' far as yer curse is c'ncerned…M jus' a tool, an object ta be used like an athame. Sa, whadya say, tiger-boy," He bent and ran his tongue along the inside of Renji's thigh. "What say we free ya o' that pesky bindin' sa ya c'n get back ta rulin' chaos an' destruction?"

Renji purred happily, body relaxing. "Oooh yes, let's, my Key," he growled, petting the other's hair and ears as his eye darkened with lust.

The kitsune's talented tongue trailed up the curves of quadracep to the hollow of the redhead's hip bones, and across to draw a line of fire up the re-awakening erection. Drawing the tip into his mouth, he swallowed it down, letting his mist flow around them in counter-point to the heat of his target.

Renji moaned hard and long, fingers twitching, claws picking at fabric and flesh alike as his back arched. "Nnmm, oh, Gin..."

Been a while, eh, Tiger? The question wasn't spoken, but it was on the air nonetheless, as the silver-haired male cupped the Horseman's scrotum, rolling the orbs gently, and thoroughly slicking the entire length of his manhood. Burning eyes met the mismatched crimson and cinnamon gaze above his relaxed conical ears. Both hands on Renji's hips as the kitsune surrounded them, creating a rhythm with his sucking that mimicked that of a tender lover riding the redhead, slow and sensually. He had to build the power slowly, bring it up through the toes and down from the scalp, the same way he would if he was going to devour his lover.

The lines of power streaked across his body began to glow softly, starting with his fingers, toes, and forehead as power was slowly, and gently, drawn up and out of him. Renji himself panted, long fingers tangling gently in Gin's hair, long claws lightly scratching his scalp. The most recent human life, the rape victim, was still close to him. This tenderness, this sweetness, it was easing that soul-hurt, the fear he was still carrying despite his previous lives in which sex had been good, and his Knowledge that Gin, as a sex demon, never took anything unwillingly. It soothed him, and the soft influx of power wasn't exactly hurting that.

Gin swallowed around his mouthful once, as the power began to reach the core of his lover's body, the ebony lines edged in deep red, like the angry skin immediately after being inked. He summoned a change to his saliva, creating the kind of lubrication he knew would be needed, then pulled back, though not away. His hands ran up Renji's sides, still gentle, and soothing, tracing the lines that had yet to be filled across the redhead's ribs and stomach.

"M gonna hafta take ya, Aiko. Ya hafta ride me ta Mark me, an' fer me ta Mark ya back. Ya know tha'." He purred, trailing cool kisses across his lover's heated skin.

Renji was flushed a light red across the cheeks and nose with pleasure, eyes half-lidded as he directed his soft gaze to his kitsune and his Key. "I do know...and you know just what to do to soothe my twisted instincts from my most recent life. I'm okay. Just...go slow."

The lines over his shoulders were glowing now, head and arm lines meeting at the neck and slipping over his collarbone, gentle, but insistent. The glow on his legs was already past his knees.

"I know, in m' head, you'll never hurt me. But if I freeze up..." He trailed off with a bit of a shudder.

"Shh." The kitsune nuzzled up that glowing neck, licking along the power lines, making them spark with tiny pseudo-electric shocks through the redhead's body. "I know."

He pulled himself up, belly dragging along the engorged flesh of his lover's cock, teasing it with the silky fur of his happy trail, then moaning as their arousals slid along each other, but he didn't stop until he was hovering over that proud prick. Somehow during the foreplay he'd prepared himself and all three tails hiked as he pressed his winking entrance back onto Renji's manhood. He sat slowly, taking each inch one at a time until he was fully seated, gently milking his lover.

"Mmngh, tell me when I c'n move, Tora no Ai."

Renji nuzzled him a moment before shifting a little, propping himself up on his elbows to kiss and pet his fox. _His kitsune_. A deep, pleasured rumble expressed how happy he was, how pleased, better than any Human language could and he nipped his throat before saying, voice husky and deep, "Anytime yer ready, koi."

"Ya always say th' sweetest things in m' language."

Gin purred, beginning that same sensual rhythm he'd used with his tongue. More rocking back and forth than lifting and falling, it brought his lips up to capture Renji's, and his hands wound in the long crimson strands at the nape of the Horseman's neck. His body undulated on his knees, using the flexibility of the fox to keep the pace steady.

The lines of power were converging now, meeting at his hips and butt, swirling between the lines on his dick and the pool of his Sacral Chakra, pulsing slowly in time with his Mate's movements as he kissed the fox back, sweetly. Passion would come later, inevitably, it was part of Renji's nature. But now, as they lay uniting in body and soul, erasing Renji-the-Human's horrible experience, this tenderness simply felt _right_.

The energies built, and Gin began to yip quietly, under his breath. He was close, Renji's own pleasure spurring him on as he rode. It wouldn't be long, and it wasn't furious, but sometimes, sweet and slow was just as good. The kitsune couldn't remember a time when things had been quite so tender with his lovers, and he knew from this moment on, no other would ever do it the way his Horseman could.

"Nyah...Tora...gonna...Mrrrr."

"Rrowwrr," he replied, nuzzling and licking at his neck. "Good, s' what I want."

His hands danced up the kitsune's sides, claws dragging just enough to give him shivers before each hand took a tail and stroked it firmly from base to tip, the lines of his 'power rod' now filling up the sides of his dick, slower than the others, but the most powerful of the energies approaching their peak.

"F-fill...me...Torrrrra..." The vulpine purred, every breath ending in a small sound.

He ground his own length against the tone planes of his lover's stomach, the bumps and dips stimulating the knot at the base of his dick. Swollen, heavy, and leaking furiously, Gin pinched it between their bodies, drawing his mist cloud in to add to the Marking. His teeth lengthened and a growling moan accompanied his nuzzling around Renji's jaw towards his blind side, nipping and licking. Another thrust, another moment, another moan...so close...

Those little sounds, combined with his mate's plea, did the trick. Renji rolled his hips up into him when he rocked forward, planting himself deep as possible as he came, fierce and surging with power, and yet it was still a sweet thing, as tender as their lovemaking despite his upward lunge to bury his fangs in the fox's shoulder and Mark him as His forever.

Gin did the same, exploding in climax between them. He bit down, power surging through his oh-so-sinful mouth, in the place between neck-lines and shoulder-lines, a silvery swirl throwing contrast to ebony and bronze.

Renji moaned into the flesh where his teeth were fastened, the double-Marking creating a surging power loop that made him squirm and cling and explode a second time, even a third before he could hold on no longer and his jaw let go, breaking the loop as he fell flat on his back on the bed, exhausted.

The kitsune panted heavily, hot breath ghosting over the still fresh Mark. He brought a hand in between them, where the smaller male was arched slightly to avoid laying in the mess he'd made, to rub across his belly.

"Heh...damn...I think ya...heh..." He shifted slightly, so his nose was buried under Renji's ear. "How d'ya feel 'bout kits, Aiko?"

"I...already...?" A huge grin stole across his face as his eye glowed. "I _love _kits, darlin'," he purred before kissing his mate happily, one hand coming down to cover the fox's on his stomach.

Then he gave a huge yawn like the cat he was and pulled slowly out—staying inside would probably make poor Gin rather sore. That done, he then quickly flipped himself around to lick at his mate's hole, where he was leaking seed, nose bumping into those sexy tails. The fox-man squirmed, toes curling, and mewling. It was arousing but not enough to bring him to full hardness. He rolled over so his legs were spread and he could squirm on his back.

When Gin was all clean, Renji licked his lips and bent up to clean himself—he didn't even think about it. He didn't have to. He was a cat, and that part of himself said '_you have to be clean_' before he could sleep. Still, it was quite an impressive feat—his spine shouldn't have been _long _enough to double in half like that. He looked just like a housecat, except maybe more dangerous because of the horns.

The kitsune blinked sleepily and tilted his head as the cloudy, white mess on his mate's stomach was cleaned away, "Tora..."

"Yyyes Mate?" Leg still up in the air, he licked his lips again, twisted, and stretched. Now clean, he could relax.

"The Vow mark...looky." Gin yawned, curling into a ball with his tails wrapped around himself.

"Oh!"

It was gone. The memories, the reason for the Vow, had been overridden, eradicated, through use of the loophole, and thus it no longer existed. As the tiger demon settled with his mate, curling around him, he grinned.

"Ya know what this means, luv…We c'n threesome with So."

"Ooh. Now yer really speakin' mah language! Git over here!" The vulpine pounced him, kissing and petting and purring and clinging as light broke through the windows of the shrine from outside.

On the roof, a pair of red eyes glared out at the world, and a voice hissed, "What now, Ssssaru?"

"Now, we inform the boss." There was a rumble of power too small to disturb the pair below, and the nue stepped through the Veil with a roll of its heavily-muscled shoulders.


	7. A Royally Rude Awakening

**A/N** Well, boys and girls, no I didn't die, it just got hectic. Hell, I STILL haven't gotten all the stuffs I need for family gift giving... Anyway, if y'all haven't guessed, for this particular story I post when Niji does! Otherwise I'd forget to post at all, I've been that scatterbrained. So, yeah, enjoy~

**Chapter Warnings:** **Ummm...supernatural creatures, mention of past abuse and violence, some demonic stuffs, oh, and magic. If you hadn't guessed. If anyone ideologically sensitive to the idea of magic existing has read this far and not freaked the hell out and went back to their religious texts, I have no idea what else to say. So, anyway, enjoy!**

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How long it took to regain his sight, Ichigo didn't know, but the piercing light of dawn through a window that shouldn't be there was his first clue. His second was a freedom of movement he shouldn't have had; he could unbend his arm and look down at his hand as though it wasn't supposed to be there, because in his memories he knew it had been behind his head when he passed out. The third thing was even more confusing. There was a tickling feeling on his belly. Not that the sensation itself was foreign, his lover regularly played with the lines cut into his skin by the ropes, but not only were the markings long gone, the thing tickling his stomach was not his blue-haired boyfriend's hand. It was a tail. A cat tail to be specific. Black tip and white fur, curling and uncurling contentedly around his belly button and as big around as his fist!

He blinked a few times before it finally clicked, "THE HELL!?"

He bolted back away from the thing, only to discover he couldn't go very far thanks to the chiseled planes of Grimmjow's chest, who yawned and curled tighter around him. The blunette tucked him in further, tail coming up to tickle his chin as strong hands stroked his arms comfortingly.

"Nnngh.."

Both hands came up and grabbed the offensive appendage so he could glare at it straight on. He couldn't turn around, and though somehow he should have noticed that the room they were in had rattan windows along the entire wall facing the East, he didn't.

From behind him came an unholy yowling of agony, "IIICHHIII!"

This caused another desperate squirm from the orangette as he realized it was attached to his lover. "THE HELL?!" He repeated, falling out of bed in a tangle of blankets and limbs to land on his tail bone.

This caused a second, louder, higher, and more agonized series of yowls and caterwauling, because he still had his tail in his grip and had just viciously yanked it. Grimmjow was shredding the bed, between his horns digging into the bed and his claws digging into the headboard and his footpaws thrust viciously against the footboard, long claws having punched all the way through as he was held rigid in indescribable pain.

"Oops!" Ichigo immediately let go of the tail, and then scrambled backwards until he reached the wall. "THE HELL! Grimm you're a...a...like that other guy! The fuck!?"

Grimmjow was clutching his tail to his chest, curled into a ball. The poor appendage was bent at a rather awkward angle, quite clearly broken. The man was nearly crying, ears down, mane in disarray, body curled protectively into a ball—covered in a strange white armor, with reversed knees, and with _paws _for feet and clawed hands that, though not furred like most of the rest of his body, had turned pure black in color.

He sniffled. "Ya din' hafta do _that_!"

It tugged at his heart, the orangette reaching out to soothe his lover, grabbing the edge of the bed to pull himself back up onto their it, in the process the frame cracked loudly, making him stop and stare at it horrified, with his other hand hovering in the air inches away from Grimmjow.

"Ah...uh..."

The panther looked from his tail to Ichigo's hand and the crushed wood where he had gripped, coming to the only logical conclusion he could. "Ya got stronger. Lots stronger."

It was at that point his Knowledge decided to return, and he bolted upright with a gasp, still holding his tail to his chest. "Ichi—yer—I—We Awakened! But I'm not—that means you—well fuck me. Who'da thunk?" He sat back on his haunches, blinking.

Ichigo blinked, too. There was a long pause, where he waited for the other to add anything to that. When it was obvious he wouldn't get anything else, he clipped, "What?"

Grimmjow frowned at his tail. "Gimme a second..."

Biting his lip hard, he took the tip in one hand and held just below the break with the other. Then he gave it a single, firm yank. The sickening crack was compounded by him biting clear though his lip with dagger-sharp teeth, but immediately a bolt of bright blue traveled his tail from base to tip and he let his tail go with a sigh, before awkwardly twisting around and forcing the base of his tail joint back into its socket. Another couple flashes of blue and he was good as new.

"Well, I Awakened as who I truly am—Conquest. Er, I think humans 'ave taken ta callin' me Pestilence, which is stupid 'cuz I hate diseases and dirt. I'm more the 'take what'cha got 'cuz ya won it fair an' square' man. But I ain't cursed no more, so tha' makes you my Key—key ta takin' off m' curse. BUT ya managed ta really hurt me, meanin' ya can't be just _any _ol' descendant o' tha' old windbag, Th' First King, so _you _must be his Heir, meanin' since he's been dead some years now, YOU'VE gotta be th' next King! So I'm the King's Consort, jus' like Shiro's always called me! So fuck me, who'da ever thunk it?"

More blinking and a noise that sounded a bit like an electrical short. Then Ichigo was on his feet, pacing back and forth and gesturing wildly while ranting, "Ní féidir liom a bheith ar an oidhre chun an throne, tá mé díreach tar éis an duine. Bhí scéalta Yama-jii s go díreach. Conas a d'fhéadfadh siad fíor?! Agus Shiro? An bhfuil a chiallaíonn sé a bhí ceart faoi seo ar fad an am seo ar an iomlán, agus bhí ár gáire air am amú? má tá muid ag tabhairt aird dó? agus cad faoi coláiste? bhí ceaptha agam a céim a bhaint amach an bhliain seo chugainn! An bhfuil gach rud déanta againn agus d'oibrigh sé do bhí useless? agus mé Gortaítear leat! Cad a tharlaíonn má is féidir liom é arís? Ní féidir liom a bheith Rí. No! ní bheidh mé! diúltú liom!"

"Ya can't jus' refuse yer throne, luv, the King is a necessary balancer. Ya won't hurt me anymore once ya git a grip on yer new strength. Yes, we shoulda been payin' better attention ta Shiro an' every time we laughed at 'im was wasted time. Yes, th' stories were real. Yer human, but more as well. And no, not everythin' we've worked for 'as been useless. Ya can still finish college, it's not like anyone else can claim th' throne...and there's good sense in livin' yer human life, you'll know what needs balance an' how badly. Also, sweetie, either slow down or switch to Japanese, m' Gaelic's juuuus' a lil' rusty," Grimmjow replied, quite calmly considering, and licked at his armored tail. Bones he could heal, he wasn't so good with bruises.

"Ach níl ach an oiread sin...go fóill, cad é?" Ichigo stopped his pacing, and blinked again. "Switch to Japanese? But I am speaking Japanese, what's Gaelic?"

Grimmjow rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Baby, Gaelic is what'chu were jus' speakin'. 'Diúltú mé' an' all tha'? And yes, tha' is what'chu were speakin'. Don't argue, I was JUST listenin' to ya."

"Je ne parlais pas le gaélique! Je parle normalement, si ça sonne bizarre pour vous c'est à cause de ce que Shiro fait qui vous a fait tourner dedans!" He argued anyway, not noticing the shift once again. "Et où en sommes-nous de toute façon!? Je me souviens d'aller au lit avec vous à la maison. Ce n'est pas à la maison. Et ce qui s'est passé à la corde? La moitié du plaisir d'être ligoté est que vous me délier!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, look, ya WERE speakin' Gaelic, an' can ya _please _stop wit' da French? I fuckin' hate those puissant pussies! We—well, we _are _home. Mah home. In th' Shrine. When we Awakened, shit happened, I musta teleported us ta where I felt most 'safe'. After all, I wouldn' want anythin' happenin' ta mah mate." His tail ticked. "Love, c'mere, would'ja?"

Once again Ichigo froze, "NEIN! Was wenn ich dir wehgetan wieder!?" His toes turned inward, and his hands came up to his chest, and he mumbled, "Ich konnte es nicht ertragen wenn ich dich wieder verletzt. "

"So come up 'ere, on th' bed. Lemme cuddle you. I'll do th' touchin so ya can't hurt me," he coaxed, opening his arms to his lover. "Ya won't hurt me, Kitten. Now that ya know ya gotta be careful, ya will be, won'tcha?"

The orangette came over to the bed and sat down on the edge, staring at the place where he'd cracked the frame, and tucking his knees up under his chin. Change was scary, and apparently now he was a monster. His insecurities about being odd and strange and different that had caused him to be both violent and temperamental all of his life made this whole situation panic-inducing.

Grimmjow curled up to his back, crossed his legs—twisted and odd as they were—over Ichigo so they were in the orangette's lap, looking like a pretzel, and used the heels of his black palms to massage his temples, down the sides of his face, and then back up to pull his fingers lightly through his hair, murmuring softly in his ear.

"Feel me pull th' tension outta ya. Feel me. Only me, mate. Feel how much I love ya. Can'tcha sense how much I love ya, how I would go ta th' ends o' th' earth for ya?"

"I knew that already." The new King did lean back into Grimmjow's touch though, and there was a drawing sensation, pulling the fear from his heart and removing the panic. "I just don't understand. Yama-jii never acted like it was important. It was just stories and when I stopped wanting to listen to him, he didn't push me about it. Shiro was always the one who would beg him for story after story about it. Ever since M—" He paused. "Since Mom died and we started staying with him and Uncle Kisuke when Goat Face was working. I don't get it. If it was important. If I'm so important, why'd they go off and leave me to figure it out on my own." His eyes fell closed.

"Because as with most things, timin' is an extremely important factor. If anyone tried ta push ya, tried ta Awaken ya, b'fore ya were ready..." he shuddered, hands faltering a moment. "...you'da gone insane. Killed everythin' in yer path b'fore self-destructin'. We've seen it happen b'fore. An, well, I'd be cursed ferever. Like...th' Third." His voice dropped, as if speaking of a horrible thing, an unmentionable name, on that last sentence.

"The Third?" Ichigo tilted his head so he could look at his lover.

"He means me," Said a bit of thin air by the door in a teasing baritone.

Grimmjow pulled Ichigo against him protectively, growling as his eyes turned to slits. The air shimmered, and out of the shimmer stepped a man—tall, handsome. Brown hair, mesmerizing brown eyes, hair pushed out of his face and a single lock hanging between his eyes. Most strikingly, however, was his garb—or lack of it, as he wore only a loincloth, but his reasoning was obvious seeing as out of his back sprouted an enormous pair of glistening butterfly wings, in an astonishing rainbow of color, and it shone like a thousand gems in the weak dawn light, dust being left in his wake as he scoffed at the feline.

"Oh, do calm yourself, First. I have no interest in _your _Key," he waved a dismissive hand.

Grimmjow held tighter to Ichigo—just looking at the Third, just thinking of how he could have lost his love into an endless loop of agony like the butterfly demon lived in, made his heart clench and stutter.

"Wh-what happened?" Ichigo stuttered, clenching the discarded sheet to his lap. "I'm pretty new at all of this. Are you...um..." His eyes drifted over the wings. "Like the other one...and um...Grimm?" His nervousness was coming back, and being naked in front of this new person didn't help at all.

"My Key was damaged," the new demon replied, "and yes, I am. We are called the Four Kings, though more honestly, we are the Four Horsemen. We supposedly herald the Apocalypse, but in truth it simply falls to us to keep the human population from exploding and draining the earth of all its resources—as, you may have noticed, it most definitely has over the years."

Grimmjow stared at the brunette. "Ya call bein' constantly separated, bein' eternally tormented, double-torn between Curse an' Contract, forced ta watch th' love o' yer life bein' born over and over only ta die, ta be abused, ta be born in a different country where ya can't get 'im-"

"_Enough!_" The butterfly snarled, eyes glowing and fangs showing as his claws grew, making a violent 'shut the fuck up' gesture in Grimmjow's direction before he forcibly calmed himself, pulled his hair back from where it had been in disarray, and once more held himself in cool elegance. "My troubles are not your mate's concern, nor are they yours, Conquest." His chin rose. "War and Death have also found their Keys and are with them now. I suggest the Heir go and comfort Death's key, seeing as the Dawn Light will soon spirit him back to the blackness and he will need to summon him back more permanently."

"Death..." Orange brows drew together, "Oh, what the fuck did Shii say about the Four Horsemen?!" He brought his hand down in frustration on the footboard, scaring himself back further into Grimmjow's arms when the wood splintered. "MERDE! Nie ficken lassen daran gewöhnt!" He looked up at his lover, "Ugh...Déan é a stopadh...?"

Third chuckled at the way the King's emotions affected the language he spoke. "Hold out your hands."

When the King had done so, the tall demon held out his own above them and began chanting softly in a non-voice that commanded the energy in the air. _Bind the tongue, bind the breath, bind the muscles, bind the strength, stay within a human's power, 'til the vessel's rightful hour. Give to him the gift ere long, but help him keep his native tongue. This binding lasts until he's grown into his powers on his own. The spell cast by Blessed Three, my will be done, so mote it be. _A gentle purple glow enveloped the orangette.

Grimmjow petted Ichigo's head. "Ya come up wit' th'best spells, Aizen."

The brunette fluttered some wing-dust over Ichigo to finish sealing the binding, before replying, "That's because I've been trapped in this world, fully conscious, and in the same life for so long."

Again the ginger found himself blinking. He was doing a lot of that lately. "Now what?"

He flexed his fingers, watching the glitter dissolve into his skin with some trepidation. His mind was buzzing. "I...there's something I should understand here, but it's not coming to me. Third, right?" He looked to Aizen, at the man's nod, he looked over his shoulder at Grimm, "Conquest? And somewhere nearby is Death, and did you say War? Wait...does that mean I'm...whoa..."

His hand flew to his temple and his eyes went unfocused for a moment, as the realization that he was the King, the Savior, according to the legends...Christ. But they'd said that was just legend, right? Well, then...but...and even if...ugh! He needed Shiro to sort all of this out for him. His twin had always been the one with answers.

"Yes, and—" There came a cry of distress and outrage, echoing through the chamber, brought on echoes from a secluded alcove, and Aizen sighed. "That...would be Death's Key. Death's Contract is up. He has been sent back into the darkness."

Grimmjow's ears shot straight up. "Shiro? Shiro's Four's Key?"

"Are you surprised? He _did _summon him. You are aware that's the only way they can possibly meet." The butterfly raised an eyebrow.

Ichigo was off like a shot, moving faster than he ever had before, and somehow the sheet had been wrapped around his body like a traditional toga. He burst through the door to find his twin curled in the middle of a bed that was identical to the one where he'd woken up. The albino rocked back and forth holding himself. The orangette was on top of him in the blink of an eye, pulling him into an embrace he was slightly terrified would crush the slightly smaller male, but it didn't and he soon found a white nose buried in the hollow of his neck.

"He's gone, King. Gone 'til I c'n summon 'im back. I dunno how ta do that without m' board." He was murmuring.

Ichigo shushed him, drawing his hand through the spikes so similar to his own. "We'll get him back, Shii. I promise. You broke his curse. He can't stay away from you for long. I'm sure of it, and I don't even know this shit."

The two were quiet for a short while, Shiro fighting off tears as he spilled everything that had happened, leaving out a few specific _personal_ details, and about how he was certain the others were around here somewhere because the release of energy that morning had been entirely too large for just his own interactions. "I know they're here. I dunno where, but, King, I'll find 'em an' get 'em their keys. I swear it!"

"Heh, we're closer than you think, Shii."

"Eh? Whatcha mean?" It was the albino's turn to blink, as his twin smiled crookedly.

"Now how did that thing go? 'til I need it? Eh, dunno how well this'll work but this morning when I woke I could do this." Ichigo reached out and grabbed one of the wooden crossbeams on the window and actually concentrated on squeezing the wood. A small symbol glowed on the inside of his wrist in lavender, then the bar splintered, the same the bedframe had before.

"Whoa! King!" Shiro exclaimed momentarily distracted. "How'd that happen?"

Ichigo related his mating with Grimmjow and how somehow they'd gone to bed at home and woken up here while the albino paced, obviously thinking. "An' then this Aizen dude cast a spell on ya so ya could control it? Damn, that does mean th' others 're here, an' this Aizen dude must be Famine. I mean if Blue's Conquest and Qio's Death. Wonder who War is."

"Dunno, but I really wish Ulquiorra could be here for you, Shii." Ichigo drew his knee up to his chin, watching his twin shiver as a ripple of energy the orangette didn't exactly feel coursed through the air.

There was a deep shudder, and the fabric of reality rippled. An oval shape, vertical this time, but identical to the one Ulquiorra had come out of the first time, appeared. The blackness buckled. It writhed. It fought. It twisted. And finally, it vomited out Death, in all his horned and furry glory, in a heap of twisted long limbs and wings and tail, looking confused, groggy, and rather like something heavy had just hit him over the head.

"What—?"

_The last is alone, and forever despairs, for his was a Key in need of repairs._

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**A/N 2: **In case anybody's interested, here are Ichi's language slips Google Translated:

"Ní féidir liom a bheith ar an oidhre chun an throne, tá mé díreach tar éis an duine. Bhí scéalta Yama-jii s go díreach. Conas a d'fhéadfadh siad fíor?! Agus Shiro? An bhfuil a chiallaíonn sé a bhí ceart faoi seo ar fad an am seo ar an iomlán, agus bhí ár gáire air am amú? má tá muid ag tabhairt aird dó? agus cad faoi coláiste? bhí ceaptha agam a céim a bhaint amach an bhliain seo chugainn! An bhfuil gach rud déanta againn agus d'oibrigh sé do bhí useless? agus mé Gortaítear leat! Cad a tharlaíonn má is féidir liom é arís? Ní féidir liom a bheith Rí. No! ní bheidh mé! diúltú liom!"

"I cannot be the heir to the throne, I am just a human. Yama-jii's stories were just that. How could they have been real?! And Shiro? Does that mean he has been right about all of this the whole time, and our laughing at him was wasted time? Should we have been paying attention to him? And what about college? I was supposed to graduate next year! Has everything we have done and worked for been useless? And I hurt you! What if I do it again? I cannot be King. No! I will not! I refuse!" (Gaelic)

"Ach níl ach an oiread sin...go fóill, cad é?"

"But there's just so much...wait, what?" (Gaelic)

"Je ne parlais pas le gaélique! Je parle normalement, si ça sonne bizarre pour vous c'est à cause de ce que Shiro fait qui vous a fait tourner dedans! Et où en sommes-nous de toute façon!? Je me souviens d'aller au lit avec vous à la maison. Ce n'est pas à la maison. Et ce qui s'est passé à la corde? La moitié du plaisir d'être ligoté est que vous me délier!"

"I was not speaking Gaelic! I'm talking normally, if it sounds weird to you it's because of whatever Shiro did that made you turn into that! And where are we anyway!? I remember going to bed with you at home. This is not home. And what happened to the ropes? Half the fun of being tied up is you untying me!" (French)

"NEIN! Was wenn ich dir wehgetan wieder!? Ich konnte es nicht ertragen wenn ich dich wieder verletzt."

"NO! What if I hurt you again!? I couldn't stand it if I hurt you again." (German)

"MERDE! Nie ficken lassen daran gewöhnt! Ugh...Déan é a stopadh...?"

"Shit! Never going to fucking get used to that! Ugh...Make it stop...?" (French, German, Gaelic – in that order)


	8. We're off to seek a -- Wizard?

A/N Ooookay, I know that cliffhanger was very, very rude of us. I apologize. ...but not really because that was fraggin' PERFECT. Anyway, ennnnnjoy~!

**Chapter Warnings: Foul language, Magic (fucking DUH!), Curse, some...enthusiastic reuniting of mates, biblical references, blood and gore (mild), past extreme pain, mild threat, Mpreg- Goddamn it will whoever that is stop fainting?! WAKE UP YA *****!**

* * *

The twins simultaneously jumped back with a duplicated, "EEP!"

Then Shiro pounced his mate, "QIO!"

"AGH!" The poor bat had been assaulted from both sides, and now his eyes crossed as pronounced ringing in both his ears made it nearly-impossible to focus on the fact that he suddenly had a double-armful of Mate on top of him.

"Ah! Gomene!" Shiro kissed the side of the pale demon's head, a small flash of soft pink radiating from his lips.

"Ah..." Ichigo looked nervous. "Is that another one of those King things?"

"He, and yes, he is," Aizen replied, all of a sudden right beside him. "Though…you shouldn't call your brother's mate a 'thing'."

Ulquiorra was too busy purring and nuzzling into his lover, wrapping his huge wings around him, to realize he'd just been insulted.

"I didn't mean him! I meant the fact that I said...eh...what I said, and then he showed up." The orangette rounded on the butterfly, scowling at being both misunderstood and being startled. That was happening entirely too much today. "So, your three are Horsemen, where's the fourth? Or rather...if he's Death...eh...Death is Fourth, right, Shii?"

"Uh huh." Shiro answered distractedly, and a little muffled from within the embrace of his lover.

Ichigo blushed and made his way out of the room, certain that the sight would make Aizen uncomfortable and to give the lovers a moment to reunite. "So, Death is Fourth, you're Third. Which is Grimm? And where's the last one? Or should I say, who?" He stepped out into the sunlight, unconsciously turning his face to it and smiling with his eyes closed.

"Your mate is First—Conquest. You've already figured out I am Famine. The second is War—your red-headed friend...no, don't say his name," he added quickly. "It will summon him and he is rather comfortable with his own mate right now. You do _not _want an angry Kitsune after you wanting his mate back, trust me." The butterfly was quite unruffled; he was used to every kind of expression of affection, physical and not. He had been around, and alive, for far too long.

"So, I'm not allowed to use their names at all?" Ichigo scratched his head. This was thoroughly confusing. Renji was...what? War? Well, that rather made sense considering. Then he gave a small shudder. "Guess I should probably tell Z I can't fight in his club anymore..."

"That is another power of yours that you haven't managed to get full control of yet. You are The King. When you speak, all of the cosmos bends to hear your voice, and the fabric of time and reality itself would dissolve should you so command it to," Aizen explained. "And you could continue to fight. You might simply cause your brother's mate a lot of work. You'll be able to call them by their true names when your abilities are better controlled."

"Eh, 'bout that..." A small silver-haired head appeared from behind a nearby tree. He looked around furtively for a moment, "I don't have long, my illusion won't hold if he wakes up, but couldja...um...tell Death...he...uh...there's a job?" The kitsune's ears flicked and he looked behind him. "Eh. Gotta go." And he was gone in a small puff of mist.

"Uh..." The King looked vaguely green. "Death has a job? Like...somebody died? Right?"

"That is generally what that translates to. However, if Gin is involved, it is a death that likely needs covering up. Ulquiorra," Aizen barked, suddenly commanding, "Gin has informed me you have work to do."

Ulquiorra, at the calling of his Name by the older and more powerful demon, went rigid. He rose and bowed. "Sorry, my mate, but I am required."

With that, he disappeared, and Shiro emerged from the building confused. At that moment from across the courtyard, Renji's irritated voice echoed and bounced off stone walls.

"THE FUCK, DEATH?!"

Ichigo practically jumped out of his skin. "I thought you said not to do that?! And why is Ren—uh…War so upset?"

"You have more power and no control. If _you _called them by Name, they would be forcibly summoned. I have the most control of anyone here, as I've been around longest. Therefore, I reserve the right to boss the other three around. And War is upset because...well, Death just popped into his bedroom, naked, where he was lounging, naked, with his newly pregnant mate…who might I add is also naked. I believe, he is rather displeased by that." Aizen betrayed himself with an amused quirk of the mouth.

"Qio appeared in Red's room!?"

"Newly pregnant mate?!"

The twins spoke at the same time. Then without waiting Shiro took off running, "Oi! Tha's MAH junk ta look at! Red git yer eyes closed!"

Ichigo whirled on Aizen, "PREGNANT!?" He felt the pressing of that same strange full feeling from before when Grimmjow had said he was speaking in Gaelic, which hauled him up cold. "I'm still speaking Japanese, right?"

"Oh, yes, yes you are. And of course, pregnant. He's a kitsune- sex demon." The butterfly still appeared slightly entertained.

"Oh good." He visibly relaxed for a moment, then exploded, "B-but how!? I mean, he's a male, right? Guys can't get pregnant! Oh my head." He held his temples.

"Kitsune are able to shape-shift, they're quite capable of getting pregnant regardless of gender. You could as well, if you commanded it so, but that's…how did you put it? 'One of those King things'." Aizen added with a serene flutter of wings. "Stop thinking of things by human rules. You are King. _Everything _runs on no rules but your own. Though I would ask you do not say that Gin cannot be pregnant. His body will abort to accommodate you and it would devastate him. You must start watching your words very carefully, My Liege."

That was like a punch in the gut. Regardless of whether it made sense, Ichigo wasn't about to abort the...kits? "No, no, no. I want him to have them." He frowned for a moment so he could figure out how to say what he wanted to say without screwing it up. "Um...I hope Gin's kits are healthy and strong and born easily when they're ready." He scratched his head. "How was that?"

"That was extremely good. It helps when you put 'I hope' or 'I think' or any other verbal statement that indicates what follows is not a command. 'I want' and 'I wish' are command predicates. Usually, if there is no predicate, that will still count as a command as far as Magic is concerned. Still, I am sure Gin's pregnancy will be fairly easy now," the brunette added with a little smile. "Once you learn to control your power as King, so not everything you say is a command, you will be able to return to normal speech patterns."

"Somehow I have the feeling that is going to be a problem until I figure out how to do that." The King rubbed his head again. "But what about this curse thing? I'm sure Shiro could tell me, but he's...heh...occupied at the moment." He blushed a little. "Walk with me? I always think better when I'm moving."

"As you wish. I hope you don't mind if I fly instead." His wings whirring to life, a fine dust settled over everything in the area as the demon hovered off the floor. "The curse is broken. Lifted. Gone. That is what the 'key' does, and my comrades have all found and mated with—essentially 'married', their keys."

"So what about you?" Ichigo scowled. "You said your key was broken. Are you doomed to be forever alone or something? Is there anything I can do? I mean...you said I could bend the fabric of reality to suit me, so, could I bring you your key?"

"You could. It would be...unwise. There is a reason I am the eldest. My key, as he existed and in the time he existed, was broken before I even found him. A priest. He had already been taken away…having devoted himself to his God. Bringing him, as I would need him, as he was then, would drive him insane and I would likely commit suicide. Or attempt to. I failed the other times." He looked oddly serene as he spoke, eyes distant. "Also, though reality will twist to suit you, there is no telling the far-reaching consequences, nor what paradoxes you might create and what events you may cause to never happen. It is best not to mess with such forces. Not every variable can be accounted for."

The orangette frowned deeper. "What about this life?"

"This life, he has been born outside the reach of my powers as they are restricted by the curse." His eyes abruptly refocused. "We have wandered into irrelevant subject matter. You wished to know about the curse?"

The King looked disgruntled, but allowed the shift. "Yeah."

"I am aware it is a unique torture to each of us. Death hated the darkness when he was alive. His curse was to live suspended in darkness, in nothingness where there exists no sensation, only consciousness drowning in the endless void. War and Conquest were sent into the human world on an impossible mission. They died, but with the mission parameters unfulfilled, they were forced to reincarnate on the human plane again and again, every life getting them further from who they were. They were, however, always drawn to the King's Line because of the nature of their mission." The soothing baritone eased the ache behind Ichigo's eyes.

"And you?" The question was quiet, but something about this composed, tragic creature called to him.

"Mine was the same as Ulquiorra's, but in one of my key's reincarnations he was able to Contract me. The terms however dictate that I will remain upon the human plane until reality turns to dust." The clipped answer brought the King up short, Aizen pausing with him.

"I can see how painful that must have been." A slip of the tongue and Ichigo fell to his knees gripping his head with open hand.

Centuries of loneliness and watching the humans the butterfly cared about dying with nothing he could do to help them. Years upon years of searching, hoping and finally that spirit breaking, destroyed by time as each time the Key was reborn either too far away or too many things in the way for them to even enjoy each other's company. Bloody tears streamed down his face, and he screamed, his other hand digging into the ground.

_MIND BE STILL! EYE BE CLOSED!_ The command, again spoken in that non-voice, shut Ichigo's eyes to Aizen's long and painful history, the butterfly kneeling on the ground, using his hand to wipe away the blood as he rocked the young man, crooning soothing words to him.

"Sssshhhhh, ssshhh, young King, sssshhhh, don't think about it. And kindly don't ever say that again," he added, petting his hair.

Ichigo shivered, "So...much...pain...how...how are you...who did this to you?" His voice was weak, and his hands wouldn't stop shaking.

Aizen took both hands in his own. "Why...the False God. Just as he cursed the others, so he cursed me. I simply had the poor luck of having a very...easily broken key."

"I know that's what you call him. Yama-jii said the same thing..." Ichigo climbed slowly to his feet, and something hard as flint shone in his honey-amber eyes. "I want his Name."

He said it deliberately, and there was a cast to his jaw and shoulders that left no question about his bloodline. To the others, when the orangette looked like this, it meant someone was going to be seriously injured.

Taking this change in stature made the Third inwardly proud of the young man in front of him. "Well, being as we were demons, bound and captured before we could do more than see his face, I'm afraid I don't know it. Nor do the others. However, Gin has connections...including one who knows just about everyone's Name, and will even give them out without a Price if he deems the receiver worthy."

Power rippled around the courtyard. Ichigo was a fast learner. He turned his head to the individual buildings that served as residences for the Four and Called...mentally. His tongue may have tripped over the language of magic, but his mind, his soul, knew exactly what it was doing. So, with the same way he picked up fighting, and the other hobbies he learned, his thoughts warped the energies around him.

Aizen merely bowed, already present. Grimmjow popped in, looking sort of frazzled, like a cat stroked the wrong way—he was a creature that hated to come when called. Ulquiorra came winging in with what looked like the mutilated remains of a dead body in his arm, and Renji arrived last, staggering a little when he ran into a wall, still not quite used to his new lack of depth perception.

"We have a mission, boys." In what Shiro called 'leader mode', Ichigo only had eyes for his target. "War, your mate has information I need. Death, dispose of that somewhere, we'll need your services." Then he turned and summoned his twin.

Shiro was instantly at his King's side with a psychotic grin. They already had something of a psychic connection. The twin effect most talked about, though this was the first time Ichigo had actively used it to share information. The albino read everything and gave a psychotic laugh and his eyes flashed gold. "Lemme get m' book, King."

Ulquiorra disappeared with the sound of ripping velcro and returned clean of blood. Nobody asked what he'd done with the body. While, Renji simply turned and Called for his mate. Gin could get to him faster than he could find the quick little kitsune. And Grimmjow sat back to watch what the twins were cooking up. When they got _that _look to them, shit tended to explode like a tie-dyed rainbow in the middle of Crazytown.

The silver fox emerged from a cloud, and looked to his mate before Ichigo cleared his throat. "Gin, I'm told you know someone who can find out the Name of almost anyone I could want to contact?"

"Yah, that sounds like Otou-san. Why?" One ear flopped down in confusion and the kitsune tilted his head to the side.

"We're going Hunting." This was a phrase the orangette used anytime there was a specific someone he wanted to taste his fist. "No one curses My court and gets away with it." Power rippled through the courtyard again like a velvet caress over all Four.

"Mah! Prrrrrr." Gin giggled. "He's got a little shop in Karakuracho now. Teaches th' kits 'bout magic an' stuff. I c'n take ya there. If ev'rybody's ready."

Renji nodded, stepping up to his mate, followed by Ulquiorra, who alighted on the ground close by the others. Grimmjow stood from where he'd leaned against the wall and grinned. And finally Aizen inclined his head. It had been a long time since the Four had ridden into battle together and to say that they weren't all interested in it would be a lie.

Shiro was back in a flash, one of his tricks that was half technology, half magic, carrying his book, and when he was settled, Ichigo turned to Gin. "This won't hurt your kits will it?"

"Nah. 'S too early fer them ta affect m' magic." The kitsune grinned...no, beamed. The King knew about his cubs! "Ev'rybody come in close, an' I'll transport us."

Once they had, a slow building mist grew from the ground, enveloping the whole group of seven. Higher and higher it climbed, until the outside world was blocked from view, much as he had with Renji when War had Awakened. In no time at all the cloud was dissapating again, and the surroundings came into view. A small, slightly run-down shop at the end of a wide, brightly sunlit alley, with a dirt area that in the spring was covered in soft grass and wildflowers. The sign over the shoji screen doors proclaimed, 'Shoten'.

"Urahara?!" Shiro gasped. "Yer Otou-san is Uncle Pervy Hat?"

Ichigo frowned and looked to Gin for confirmation. The kitsune merely shrugged, already walking up to the closed doors.

"He took me in when I was a kit. M' Kaa-chan was hit by a car bringin' me here fer somethin' an' Otou-san jus' kept me on. Taught me how ta use magic an' get ta the Other Side, 'bout Contracts an' stuff. There ain't nothin' he don't know."

"That is excellent, perhaps he—" Then the door opened.

Each Horseman stopped dead, and Renji gasped, "YOU!"

Grimmjow visibly recoiled, hissing and crouching protectively in front of his mate. Even Aizen and Ulquiorra both took steps back, wings coming around their bodies in a glaring and obvious protective gesture as Ulquiorra stood in front of his mate.

"Ah..." His voice was shaky, his legs more so. Time had not been kind to the blonde shopkeeper. He leaned heavily on his cane, deep lines carved into his face. "I was wondering when you all would show up. Very good job on the summoning, Shiro-kun. You've always been very timely with these things. Come in, come in, don't make an old man stand around in cold morning air." He turned and shuffled very slowly back into the shop, leaving the door open.

Ichigo and Shiro looked around them frowning a bit. The reaction from the others made the hair on the back of their necks stand on end.

"King...?" The albino asked.

Ichigo ducked around Grimmjow, and with a look at Aizen, stepped forward. "Gin, there is obviously more to this than we were aware. Should we need it, can you provide us with a speedy exit? I don't mean to cast suspicion on your father, but..." He gestured lightly to the Four.

"Ah...hai..." The little kitsune was just as thoroughly confused and more than a little hurt by the way his mate had responded to the man he saw as his father.

The Four looked at each other before Aizen nodded. The other three inclined their heads and, as a unit, all four stalked forward, mates encased within their diamond protective formation. Renji reached for his mate's hand to try and comfort the poor kitsune. Gin actually clung to the redhead's arm, whimpering a little and his mate responded by tucking him into his side with a soft croon. Shiro echoed the sentiment, looping Ulquiorra's tail around his wrist gently, which immediately gripped tighter, and the albino found a black, velvety wing wrapped around his shoulders.

"It appears that there is much explaining to do," Aizen said softly as he entered, at the front of the diamond. He had the least to lose.

Before they crossed the threshold, Ichigo, who was in the center of the diamond as both Grimmjow's mate and the most important person in their group, put a hand on Aizen's shoulder. Sad eyes conveyed the message, 'be strong, Famine.' He would be damned if that crushing loneliness would be allowed to haunt the beautiful demon any longer. He was Awake now, and that meant that these Four were as much his family as his twin. He was answered with a charming smile—the kind that was instinctively registered as a beautiful, non-verbal lie. The butterfly's hand gave his own a gentle squeeze. With a soft, sad sigh, Ichigo dropped back to be closer to Grimmjow, knowing the feline would need him for strength as much as the others would.

..._This tale has been told, of the dark, dreary night, by those who in darkness truly delight._..


	9. The Cycle Completes and A Curse Ends

We're gettin' good at this cliffhanger thing, huh?

**Chapter Warnings: Character Death, foul language, Mpreg, past abuse and torture, one VERY pissed off butterfly demon.  
Seriously, whoever it is keeps fainting at the mention of Mpreg, I SWEAR I will find you and I will come with smelling salts!**

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The inside of the shop was just as he remembered it. A display of candies to one side, with a small cash register on the counter. A low table in the back for tea and other goodies that Uncle Kisuke always had available for the children in the neighborhood. Ichigo dearly missed those days, hanging around on the cushions scattered about the floor, listening to Yama-jii prattle on about some fairy or ghost. His little sisters running around playing tag with the black cat that lived there most of the time. He took a deep breath, blinking away the tears that being in the neighborhood of his childhood brought. When they'd had to move to Tokyo proper for their father to get the job at the bigger hospital, the daily trips to Uncle Kisuke's funny little shop had dropped to weekly, and then as time went on, money got tighter. The visits became monthly, and then when Yama-jii died, none of them could bring themselves to visit the place where the old man had been so lively. It had been over ten years since Ichigo had walked through those doors, and yet it seemed like he had walked back in time, Yama-jii would shuffle out from around the corner that connected the shop to the living quarters, carrying a tray of tea and they'd listen to another story. Well, at least that part was true. Uncle Kisuke shuffled around that corner, carrying a tray of tea and sweets.

"It's not quite the same recipe that your Yama-jii made, but I'm afraid he took that one with him on his journey." The old shopkeeper gave an apologetic sleepy smile, set the tray down and groaned as he lowered himself to the cushion next to the table. He took in the way the Four clung to their mates and King. "I knew it'd be you, Berry-tan. You always had that air about you. Pity, Yama didn't make it to see this day. He'd have been so proud."

"Anyone would. He is a strong, compassionate young man," Aizen murmured, taking again the 'point' seat—the one closest to Kisuke. "He also," his mouth curved, "is the Key and Mate of our very own Conquest. Conquest and Kingship go together so well, don't they?"

Ulquiorra tucked his mate yet closer. Nobody was sending HIS mate to the darkness! Renji sat cross-legged with Gin in his lap, hands and arms crossed protectively over his tummy, ears back as he kept a watchful eye on everything. Grimmjow pressed against his mate's side—as much for reassurance as for comfort. His mate was here, his mate was safe.

Aizen, sitting in the traditional seiza, took one of the cups of tea. "If you'll forgive my ill manners...I believe we are deserving of the explanation you never gave back then."

"Ah yes...back then..." Kisuke's eyes, heavy with sleep and slow, glazed over in deep memory. "It appears we are all in dire need of an explanation. You were not to have been treated as you were. It doesn't make up for it, of that I am all too painfully aware, but it is the truth nonetheless. As you are already aware, Famine-san, I am of the Bloodline, and thought that the Court should be controlled. The untimely demise of my brother was devastating to the Other World."

"Uncle Kisuke, you...ah...are you that old?" Ichigo reformed his statement, catching himself before he gave an order.

The shopkeeper smiled sadly. "Actually I am, Berry-tan. The First King was my brother, and your Yama-jii was my nephew. He was to be the Heir but a meddlesome boy who saw the absence of his beloved twin as the end of the universe got in the way. He turned to a warlock for a special spell that would give him control of the Four until his nephew could grow up and take control himself. The trouble was, the boy didn't realize the warlock for what she was at the time. Spurned by one of the Four, she was vindictive, and gave the boy a curse. One that would throw the entire cosmos into chaos. Entropy became order and the Four were bound to seek out specific mortals to gain their powers back. The once majestic guardians of the Mortal World were reduced to the level of common demons, sent on impossible missions and able to be Contracted to any petty sorcerer or mage that stumbled across their Names." A shaky hand reached out to take hold of his tea pot, and Gin pulled against Renji's embrace to help his step-father.

Renji let him go. If he was getting what the old man had said right..."Who was it? The warlock?"

Aizen's mouth twisted at the question and his wings started to dye a blood red. "It was Hinamori. Wasn't it, Kisuke-san?"

Grimmjow, Renji, and Ulquiorra all visibly started and inched away from Aizen. Ulquiorra tucked his mate into his chest. Grimmjow shuddered and nudged Ichigo further down. Renji bodily moved Gin to the other side of the table, both closer to his step-father and as far from Aizen as he could get in this enclosed space.

The three mates stared. Gin poured his step-father's tea, and gladly sank back into the strong embrace of his violent mate. Ichigo blinked a few times, and Shiro cried out.

"Dude! Yer wings're like a mood ring. I've heard o' that."

The albino hauled his book into his lap and was furiously flipping pages ignoring the others around them. If Ichigo's focus was 'leader mode' this was Shiro's 'research mode'. Entirely buried in his manuscripts, in this mode, the budding mage could be lost for days without food, drink or sleep until he found what he was looking for.

The shopkeeper, however, was nonplussed. "Hai, Famine-san. That was her name, I believe. I knew nothing of her at the time. She merely took advantage of my pain after losing the twin that was my world. And she did exactly as she said she would. My nephew is King, your curse should be broken. Unless, for some reason..." Grey-green eyes scanned the room. "Ah, one of you is missing. That does pose a problem. I suppose the only thing left to do now, Famine-san, is to kill me." He gave a small, sardonic smile, taking a drink from his tea.

"Otou-san!" Gin whimpered.

"I know the curse that vile creature used."

Aizen's wings dyed even darker, nearly black now, and it was obviously scaring the other Three. The way they hovered over their mates and inched away from him were distinct signs.

"It made you immortal, yet not immune to age, cursing each of us in hopes that all would be like me, and miss their chance. I am the one who scorned that woman. For I could see the ugly, evil cruelty that she hid under her feminine wiles," he growled, eyes glowing. "It is a curse never meant to come undone. But," he forced himself to be outwardly calm, but his wings still betrayed him, "I suppose you are eager to finally enter the cycle of reincarnation, aren't you, Kisuke-san? After seeing everyone you know go through it over and over."

"Only you could understand my desires, Aizen-san." The old man was tired..._very_ tired.

"B-but...Otou-san..." Gin whimpered again, one hand going to his belly, and tears in his eyes.

"I know, Maru-chan." Kisuke looked sadly at his step-son. "And they will be beautiful and strong, just like their parents. If I go now, perhaps I will be one of them, ne?"

Ichigo reached for Shiro's hand under the table, and the albino looked up with a bit of shock on his face. He took in what was happening and the twins exchanged a glance. Then the more vibrant spoke, "You wish for us to end your suffering, Uncle Kisuke. We will miss you dearly if you do this, but..." He looked around, and nodded, "none of us will stand in your way." A gentle caress of power touched each of them; the orange haired King was getting a better handle on controlling himself.

Aizen stood up and held out his hand for the elder. "Come with me. I know a spell...it will send you to sleep, and while doing so, your soul will be freed from this pain-ridden shell. Come, Kisuke-san. I hope your next life is kinder to you than this one."

The other three still stayed as far as possible away from the butterfly. His wings had turned pitch-black, and that had only ever happened once. When he had discovered his Key had been broken, when he had been forced to watch his love be sacrificed in the name of a holy war, the first time. None of them had ever seen such pain, nor such destruction before or since. Whole countries—whole _civilizations_—for all that he was handsome and nonthreatening, he scared the living shit out of them all.

"Arigatou gozaimasu, Aizen-san." The ancient man gratefully took the offered assistance. He gave a smile to each of the others in turn. "I look forward to actually seeing you, Death-san. I'm told you are truly a sight to see just before one's eyes see nothing else." Then he allowed the butterfly to guide him to his bedroom, shuffling, slow steps, leaning heavily on the demon's arm.

As soon as they were out of sight, Gin sobbed into Renji's chest. He couldn't do anything, and truly didn't want to hold his step-father back from his eternal sleep, but that didn't make the pain any less. Ichigo clenched Shiro's hand and the twins sighed as one, leaning back into the embraces of their mates. This was definitely not how the King had envisioned the confrontation going. There was still the warlock to find, but he began to put things together, and an idea was beginning to form. The gold eyes of his twin caught the light in his own, and nodded once, going back to his book to find the spell he needed. It would be painful, drawn out and slow to kill. The woman would know exactly what the others had felt and live through it three times over by the time the King was done with her.

Death laid a kiss on his mate's head and rose to follow the pair. There was shuffling as the Horsemen helped the elder to lay down. Not long after that, Aizen's not-voice once more rose and fell in the familiar makings of a spell, this one a spell he had not used in many centuries. In fact, it almost sounded like—no, he _was_—**singing**. A sweet, gentle melody. His not-voice rang clear and washed gently over the man in the bed, like a lullaby, pulling him towards sleep—and toward Death. It was less of a pull, however, and more of a lift, and the longer he sang, the less pain Urahara felt. This was a spell for releasing the soul, first designed to gently release tortured souls from the body they were trapped in, typically used on soldiers as they lay dying on the battlefield. It promised rest, relief from pain, and soft wings to carry the soul forth.

A few minutes later, Ulquiorra's black shadow slipped through the roof, arms wrapped around an exceptionally young-looking male soul, whose face was pressed gently into the soft skin of Ulquiorra's neck.

In the room with the others, Ichigo lifted his cup to his lips for the first time, eyes closed and breathing deeply. He would savor this cup, in this place, in this way, because it was the last such cup he vowed he would ever drink. Tea just wasn't tea without the elders who made it, and those had passed on to their next lives. Memories played unbidden across his closed eyelids and he could hear the soft keening from his right side, which told him that the slender kitsune felt the same.

"Is he...really gone, King?" Shiro's voice was quiet as he ran his hand across the cover of his book.

This man, this strange, at times perverted, old man, had been the twins' last connection to their old life. To the one they'd lived with their parents, happily around the corner and down a few blocks. It was like the end of an era, heavy and melancholy with the longing of days gone by. The orangette nodded, not trusting his voice, and felt the weight of his monochromatic brother laying his head against his shoulder. He reached out and placed his hand over Shiro's on the book. Quiet reflection keeping the normally boisterous duo solemn and reserved.

The horsemen did the same, saluting the departed spirit with solemn faces and quiet spirits. When Ulquiorra and Aizen returned, they joined the others at the table. Aizen's wings were folded against his back, but they were still black as pitch despite his expression being entirely serene. When their tea was finished, as one the Horsemen gave their cups a half-turn to the left before upending it—a salute to the life just finished and the life just begun.

At that point, Aizen rose, wings flaring. "Excuse me, my Liege. I have something I need to do."

Before the butterfly could leave, Ichigo spoke, voice soft but heavy with power, "Aizen." He opened his eyes and looked up over the rim of his tea cup. "Where are you going?"

Famine paused, but didn't turn around. "I am going," he said softly, dangerously, "to find that little _chit_. Doing so will break several laws of reality. It isn't safe for anyone else. I'm the only one with the experience needed to survive this venture. And when I'm done, I will undo everything and bring her to you for further punishment."

The other three demons shuddered as one. Ulquiorra and Renji pulled their respective mates into their laps, wrapping around the albino and the kitsune as completely as possible. Grimmjow pressed himself to the floor behind Ichigo with a small whimper. The butterfly in this mode was the scariest thing _ever_.

"See that you do."

Though he had only felt a fraction of the pain his Third had experienced over the centuries, and had only been Awake as King for the better part of a few hours, Ichigo was taking to it, quite literally, as though he'd been born for the job. His speech patterns were already shifting so that what he said actually was what he meant, and what he didn't say...well, his twin, the kitsune, and the Court were glad that reality didn't listen to his thoughts.

"We'll meet you back at the Shrine. Bring the warlock when you come. She and I will have words."

Aizen smiled over his shoulder, and it was not a nice smile. It was like staring into the eyes of the ugliest face of Death itself and finding it was smirking back in anticipation. Ulquiorra turned even more ashen than he already was. Grimmjow pressed against Ichigo's legs. Renji squeaked and shielded his mate with his whole body. Then Aizen abruptly disappeared, leaving nothing but a trace of dust.

Ichigo reached down and stroked his Consort's hair, enjoying the last few drinks of tea. "We have preparations to make. I fully expect each of you to be present when the warlock is brought in. She has much to answer for, and the Four have an apocalypse to create for her alone." He looked around the room, sadly.

Ulquiorra simply nodded, still ashen, body shaking. "We will be pleased to help you punish her," he assured, voice much steadier than his body.

Grimmjow shuddered, but also nodded. "I seen tha' face b'fore Ichi. Holocaust," he whispered, eyes wide and obviously traumatized.

Renji closed his eyes and mimicked his azure counterpart. "Ah. His key was involved in that one. Never had m' job taken from me like that b'fore…"

The redhead trailed off into a heavy silence that lasted for a few minutes, each of the gathered group just breathing and processing the implications of such a statement. Then Shiro brought them back to the present.

"Sum'body'll hafta tell Goat Face 'bout it."

He had shifted so his cheek rested against Ulquiorra's shoulder, but his hand remained linked with his twin's. Ichigo nodded, but added nothing to the sentence. Again, a melancholy silence descended. It seemed to be the theme for the day, quiet reflection over the memories of a man that had lived the equivalent of over ten consecutive human lifetimes.

Gin sniffled and said, sadly, "Ya really think Otou-san could be one o' th' kits, Tiger?"

"Sure," Renji assured. "When the soul is attached enough, it tends ta try'n be reborn where an' when they can see their loved ones again. I was born as m'own kid once. Fuck, tha' life nearly drove me insane, what wit' confusin' my mother for m' wife as the memories battled for supremacy. So it's entirely possible he'll be one of ours," Renji assured him, nuzzling into his neck.

The kitsune seemed to be comforted by the redhead's words. It would be a long while before anyone else could even sense the budding souls, but it didn't stop the sex demon from rubbing his hand across his stomach protectively anyway. Renji nuzzled his mate, also rubbing his belly, eyes going soft as he did, filling with love for his lover and their children. Catching the good feeling, Ulquiorra encased Shiro with his wings, closing them both in a large bubble of black.

_...And if you should think that we tell you lies..._


	10. Punishment and Ascension

And so we arrive at the last of this particular aspect of TDK! *sob* It's been such a lovely long haul with you all! *blows nose* Oh but don't worry, there ARE sequels, all written and ready for the posting. On schedule. There will be writing coming out of this end of the Rainbow Six for QUITE some time to come!

**Chapter Warnings: Mpreg, character death, torture (non explicit), gore (VERY EXPLICIT), magic, some seemingly unrelated fluffley cuddles...okay whoever just gagged can join Mr. Faints-A-Lot in the corner!**

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Only Conquest remained shaken by the events of that morning, shivering lightly against Ichigo's side.

"Easy, Grimm. I trust him. None of this makes sense to me in my head, but," The King looked down at the feline head of blue hair in his lap, and shrugged, "you're always saying I should listen to my gut more."

"I trust 'im too. I jus' seen what he c'n do when he's like _that,_" the feline murmured, and his tail fluffed at the tip. "An' ya _should _trust yer gut," he asserted with a little grin.

Ignoring the other two pairs getting all lovey to either side of him, Ichigo's mouth curled into a smirk he'd picked up from his twin, "Is that a hint, kitty boy?"

"Meeeeebbeeeee," Grimmjow drawled, slinking under the table, blue eyes glinting out at him above a floating baring of white, fanged teeth much like the legendary Cheshire cat.

"If you're doing that now, we aren't doing it where my brother and best friend can watch."

An orange eyebrow quirked, but though the words shimmered in the air, nothing about reality changed. Though that may have mostly been because Gin had Renji in a lip-lock that blocked the redhead's singular vision, and Ulquiorra's wings were wrapped around Shiro, hiding the mostly monochromatic duo from sight.

Grimmjow snickered. "Oh Ichi. A lil' magical blackout screen's easy enough ta make," he laughed with a scrape of his long black claws over the floor.

"Ok then, I'll be a little more obvious. I'm not having sex in the shop where I grew up. I love you, you're the sexiest thing I've ever seen, even with the new changes, and I love fooling around with you, but this," The orangette gestured to the room. "I was a kid here. I watched my sister throw her first punch here. Shiro threw up in that corner after eating so much of Uncle Kisuke's candy that he got a bellyache. So, no, Grimm, not here."

The feline poked his head out from under the table, long ears perked up and forward. "Sex? Whoever said anythin' bout that? Sex is fer _after _th' torture, Ichi. No, now I jus' wanna play. Tag er something."

At that, Ichigo smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. "I've traded my boyfriend for a giant cat..." He muttered, chuckling.

"Tha' also means ya git a lil' kitty-cat tongue an' barbs," Grimm replied sweetly before disappearing back under the table.

A full-body shiver took hold of the orangette as he thought back to the things his Consort had done to him the night before. He bent down, ungracefully to look under the table. "That's cheating, you know!"

Grimmjow's tail waved. "Hardly. Jus' informin' ya of the new perks."

"Yeah, uh huh, and you have absolutely no ulterior motives." The words flew from his mouth and two seconds later, the King froze. "No! Wait! I mean...shit! Argh. This is so annoying. Just when I think I've got a handle on it."

The orangette scooted his hips so he could flop back on the cushion he'd been sitting on with his arm over his face. True to form, any previously sexual thought had abruptly vanished from Grimmjow's head, so he tried to be comforting as he leapt over to his mate and nuzzled at him.

"Aw, you'll get th' hang of it sooner 'r later, love."

"I can't be sarcastic." One amber eye peered up at the feline above him. "Do you know how irritating that is?"

Snickers from the other side of his arm brought the other honey-amber eye into view, as the King leveled his twin with a glare. The albino leered with the same smirk Ichigo had worn not five minutes before. "Guess I'll jus' hafta be th' sarcastic one from now on, ne _King_?"

"That's it!"

Ichigo dove for his twin, knocking the pale copy from Death's lap and rolling across the floor with him. They smacked into the wall, rattling the shoji screen, pulling hair and clothing, growling and laughing. A punch was swung and missed. Toes dug into the tatami mat, and they rolled back towards the table again. Ichigo pinned Shiro, sitting on his back, but the albino bit his brother's leg and the pair were toppled again in a pile of arms and legs as both tried to win the spot of rider.

As the pair wrestled past, Gin tilted his head, "Shouldn' we do somethin' 'bout them? I mean, th' King did say ta meet So-So back at th' Shrine, didn' he?"

Renji's ears perked. "Wait, wait, tha's So-So? Really? Bu'...if he's got a key...and he's...but he was...Ishida...uuuhh, fuck? Z said he was fuckin' im stupid."

Gin giggled, holding his ribs. "So-so doesn't have sex with us, silly Tora. He just wants th' company."

"That don't make sense. Then why…" The redhead frowned in confusion but the tell-tale glint in his mate's grin made him groan. "Oh you sly dog. That why ya said tha' stuff 'bout him bein' th' best lover ya ever had? Cuz ya were teasin' us?"

Again the kitsune giggled, and War grabbed him to pretend to wrestle him to the floor. A few squeals of entertainment that had both Grimmjow and Ulquiorra rolling their eyes pretending not to be jealous of the more physical relationships around them.

"Z is gonna flip when he finds out ya were yankin' his chain 'bout So-so las' night." Renji growled.

That made the twins stop and look at the redhead. Shiro being held down, wrists and ankles, upside down and Ichigo on top, but with the same expression, slight disappointment and a hint of jealousy. In one voice, they whined, "You went to Sin!? Aww!"

The redhead smirked, holding his mate gently around the waist. "O'course. I worked there, y'know. Fought for 'em, danced afterward an' everythin'."

"Well yeah, but..."

"...was one'a th' best parts o' bein' friends wi' ya."

They were talking in that twin-speak again.

"So, didja win?" Shiro leered, even more distorted by being upside down.

"Baka! Of course he did! Rage always won." Ichigo smacked his twin, freeing one of the albino's hands to do it.

The resulting scuffling had their positions reversed, when Shiro asked, "Who'd ya mop th' floor wi' this time?"

Gin froze, watching his mate from his place secure within the larger male's arms, his laughter dying away.

"Oh, jus' t'night's Gold," Renji answered casually. "I din't get away scot free either," he admitted, hand coming up to touch his blind eye before he managed to control the reflex.

Ulquiorra's wing twitched as he frowned. "That must have hurt."

"It did." The redhead then gave his mate a kiss in comfort.

The twins echoed, "HOLY SHIT!"

As obviously neither one had noticed the fact that their long-time friend was now half-blinded. Falling out of the pin, the two scrambled over to him, practically pouncing him, much in the energy of a pair of over-eager puppies. First, Shiro grabbed his chin hauling his face around to stare at the scars. Then, Ichigo batted the white hand away to twist War's head around to the exact opposite direction. This incited another glaring contest as both hands gripped a piece of the redhead's shirt. It lasted for a minute or two, then as one they looked down at Renji.

"I can fix it."

Gin squeaked and almost fell off of his mate's lap. "AH! So violent! Are they al'ays like this?"

Renji burst out laughing. "Yeah, yeah they are, luv."

Grimmjow was also laughing, holding his stomach at their antics. It was good to see, to feel, that things were, at least in some aspects, still very normal. "Ya seriously overlooked it all this time?"

Also as one, the twins blushed, though as usual one was more colorful than the other, and the blush was accompanied by the trademark scowl that all but one of the Kurosaki clan could pull off. Sitting back on their butts, legs crossed, still on opposite sides of Renji, they continued to glare at each other, more embarrassed by acting in duplicate than the altercation. They hated being referred to as a set, and did everything they could to play up their differences, though neither would admit that they'd be lost without each other.

"So, do ya want it fixed?" Shiro huffed.

"Like you could do it." Ichigo sniffed.

"I've had more practice." The albino growled.

"So? Cosmos...listening." The orangette made a twirling type motion with his finger at the sky and stuck his tongue out.

Gin felt very much like he was in the middle of a tennis match, gaze shifting from one twin to the other in rapid succession as they argued. "Mah..." He tried.

Shiro cut him off, mimicking Ichigo, "Oh yah, tha's really gonna c'nvince me. Real m'ture."

"If it's so immature, then why'd you do it too?" The King did it again.

"Cuz you did."

"So?"

Gin tried a second time, "But I a'ready...uh..."

The albino cut him off, "Yer jus' gettin' yer feet on th' ground."

"All ya've ever done was keep yer nose in yer books." Ichigo's speech slid into the same manner as Shiro's, the way it always did when they argued.

"Cuz you always laughed at me. Not so stupid now, is it, _King_?" Again Shiro put emphasis on it, which made Ichigo cringe.

"I know! An' ya don't think I don't feel 'bout it? If I'd paid better attention to ya, wakin' up this mornin' wouldn't've been so bad." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Ya know I was speakin'...what was it, Grimm?"

"Gaelic, then French, then German wit' smatterin's of Japanese," The panther supplied.

"Hold up a fuckin' second," Renji broke in exasperatedly before the argument could be resumed. "Gin a'ready healed it, a'right?! I'm fin', these 'r mah spoils o' war."

Both twins gave a defeated noise that they absolutely refused to admit sounded the same, and muttered. "Just trying to help."

After a few moments of blessed silence, in which the only sound was that of everyone shuffling around in their seats a bit as the tension of the room grew, Shiro frowned. "King, things'll never be like that again will they? I could feel yer power durin' that. Yer like...I don't think I c'n get anywhere near that even if I studied fer th' rest o' my..."

Ichigo swept around Renji, grabbed his twin, both of them hearing the unspoken fear. Ichigo was the King. Shiro would only ever be a mage who happened to be lucky enough to be married to one of the Horsemen.

Ulquiorra glanced up from reading Shiro's book of shadows. "Mate. You are aware that as his twin you are his balance? When there is a King," he looked back down, and turned a page, tail flicking, "there must be...a Horse. To both support the King and to undo what he has done, should it be necessary. Why do you think those in the King line are born in pairs?"

Renji blinked his good eye and went slinking back to his mate. "And no offense, ya two...I jus'...don' wanna be fussed over, yeah?"

The pair blinked at Ulquiorra and both blushed, though they didn't separate or respond to the redhead's statement. Shiro tucked under Ichigo's chin, the orangette wrapped his arms around the albino's shoulders, and sitting in Shiro's lap, his legs mimicked his arms around his twin's waist. So, Shiro crossed his wrists behind Ichigo's back, and tucked his feet up into a cross-legged seat for his King. They didn't seem to have a place where one ended and the other began.

Gin giggled at the display, doing his own wrapping around Renji, and tilted his head, "Not that this ain't fun, but So-So'll be back at the Shrine b'fore long."

The remaining three Horsemen flinched and chorused with identical looks of wariness. "We know."

"We can feel the pull on his power lessening," Ulquiorra added. "He could take only limited resources from his Pool of Power here, thanks to the limits put on him by the curse. While with Urahara's death the curse has been broken, he left in such a rush he had no time to replenish his stores."

"Ain' jus' tha'," Grimmjow chimed in, tail twitching nervously. "He's still achin', deep in th' soul. We all c'n feel it. But...it's less. He's inflictin'... lots o' damage. Gettin' ta th' point where she's barely 'live."

Ichigo looked hard. "He may not kill her. Death, do not collect her soul. It will remain bound to her body, regardless of damage, until I have decided to show mercy."

Shivers ran down Shiro's spine, "Damn, King..."

"Sorry, Shii." The orangette nuzzled his twin, but his eyes remained focused. He spoke to nothing, but everything listened, "Take My Court back to the Shrine."

There was a ripple through reality, and the six of them found themselves in the courtyard of the Shrine. The evidence of their arrival was in the way a flurry of leaves from the trees lining the open area settled just after them. Ichigo immediately stood out of Shiro's embrace, striding over to the Northern building, and as he walked the place changed. An imposing throne grew out of nothing, but melding into the stonework of both the wall and the ground. The Four, in their released forms, made up the rest of the frame. War and Conquest leapt out to the front, creating snarling armrests. Death and Famine's wings stretched up to form the back. And around the base were humans struggling and fighting amongst themselves, falling and dying in battle, the hands of Hell reaching up to pull them down into their eternal torment.

The King turned, and in one motion the sheet he still wore became the Robes of Hades, blood red with black flames licking up his arms, legs and the hem of his cloak. Out of his Third Eye grew the Crown of Judgement, an elaborate filigree in some metal that wasn't gold, or silver, or platinum, but shone with His Divine Presence. Then he sat and a shockwave blew through the courtyard, preparing it for the Trial.

It was then, summoned back by the command of his King, a very unwilling Aizen returned, dragging what looked like a mangled lump off meat like a thoroughly beaten side of beef carelessly across the ground. He was covered head to toe in blood, even his wings dripping the red substance, and his eyes were glowing with demonic bloodlust and continuing rage as he threw the lump before the King's throne- and it moaned.

The warlock. She had been skinned alive, her flesh salted, burned, and the tender burns whipped before her dragging across the rough stone ground, leaving a brush-trail of blood behind. And by all indications Aizen had not nearly been done with her.

As the Four took their places around the courtyard, at the four compass points, Ulquiorra stared impassively. As Death he had seen the kinds of atrocities humans forced on each other. Thus, no matter how violent or gruesome the cause was he would be unaffected, but Renji and Grimmjow both winced. War killed as a matter of necessity and Conquest laid claim without destroying when possible. This level of torture and agony was beyond them. Famine, however, caused _months_ of suffering before allowing their victim to succumb. Aizen embodied this to a T.

Ichigo looked down his nose at the whimpering pile of bones. "Mage, heal her but do nothing to remove the pain."

Shiro, addressed as his title, shivered again and approached the beaten form. It, for in this state of injury no gender existed, tried to wince away, expecting another blow. The albino murmured his healing prayer and the stone glowed repairing flesh and bone, growing muscles and skin, removing the physical evidence of Famine's torture. When the small woman was left on the cobblestones, nude for the spell could not re-clothe her, she looked around and her face went pale. Shiro stepped back and she threw herself at Ichigo's feet.

"Lord of Creation, please! PLEASE! Forgive a poor, misguided wretch, who was gripped by the evil of heartbreak! Have mercy, I beg of you! What I did as a child was deplorable! I swear! I never meant—"

"Silence, Warlock!" Gin hissed, appearing from his mist cloud above Ichigo's left shoulder.

The woman whimpered, her forehead on the ground and her hands stretched out trying to clutch at the King's robes, but through a trick of the wind the fabric pulled itself from her grasp. Shiro frowned pityingly down at the betrayer, and almost said something, but the wind blew her scent into his face. This made him sneer.

"She reeks of Dark Magic. Traitorous she-rat. Sell your morals for the power to conjure. Your kind make me sick. Sneak-thieves who earn your spells by turning your backs on your craft!" The albino spat on her, and the spittle burned like acid, making her cry out and clutch her hand to her chest. "See what your treasonist actions get you."

Ichigo held up a hand and his twin left the thing to whimper, taking a stance behind the King's right shoulder. "Famine..." The orangette spoke softly, "Continue."

Aizen smiled, and somehow his teeth had all turned to points. He made a hand gesture, and the pool of Ley Line magic keyed to him glowed as chains shot up from floor and walls to hold the warlock in a vicious spread-eagle crosstie. Now closer to the source of his power, he could do things he previously could not...

Over several hours, where the woman was healed and submitted to further torture, Ichigo summoned a drink of tea, Shiro and Gin became increasingly pale, and the sun marched on across the sky. Just as it was about to set, the light slid into a ring atop the West building, that of Death, and the King stood, signaling an end to the trial.

Shiro immediately moved in to heal the tattered piece of woman for the last time.

Grimm was hiding under the throne by then, head buried in his own legs to block out the screams. All that was visible of the mighty panther was the rounded curve of his back where he didn't quite fit completely under the throne. It took Renji to pull the shivering feline out to stand in his appointed place. Ulquiorra stood ready, nonplussed as before, but with a tension on the edges of his frame that showed his true distaste for such drawing out of punishment. Aizen dismissed the chains, magic, and let her fall. He wasn't truly satisfied. He never would be, but he felt he could let it go now. He, as the rest, awaited the King's Judgement in his place.

Ichigo strode regally up to the collapsed form, too exhausted to supplicate for mercy a third time. He took her chin in his hand, forced her to look into his eyes, and pity overtook his features. He ran his thumb across her lips, and she opened them, desperate for any kind of affection after all that torment. She even began to weep at the tenderness with which he caressed her skin.

"I have reached my decision. Hinamori Momo, your sentence will be to walk this plane, never finding rest, never finding a place to call home until you have taken three steps for every moment the Four have suffered at your hands. Where your foot touches the earth will be as walking upon a bed of hot coals, even in the coldest of climates. Food will taste as ash on your tongue, and liquid will be as acid down your throat. Magic will turn on you as you have turned your back on Me." His voice was soft, almost sad. "You will re-live the agony of the Four until the skies have fallen and time itself has ended. Then, and only then, will you be taken to Hell to begin serving your sentence as you agreed when you gained your powers as a warlock. All this, and the thread of Fate your Karma has accrued you will carry, and you will do so..." His hand trailed up her cheek until his thumb brushed her brow. "blind."

Ichigo shoved his thumb into her eye, popping the organ like a tomato. As she screamed and blood ran down her face, he repeated the process, all the while his expression was cool, relaxed, and even soft.

Aizen's wings fluttered and turned a pinkish purple of enjoyment that thoroughly frightened the other Three, even as Grimmjow hid his face again and Ulquiorra turned away. Renji simply crossed his arms and nodded. War approved. Sometimes to win the war, you had to devastate the other side. To win the war for Famine's eternal soul, for his sanity, the enemy, the warlock, had to be ultimately and completely devastated. This, he understood.

The King left the warlock to crumple, and held out his hand. Immediately, Gin was there with a towel to clean the blood and mucus away. Still, Ichigo's voice was sad, "Famine, take it where you will, but return as soon as you have disposed of it. Court dismissed."

He turned his back on her, and with measured steps entered the North building. Shiro seemed torn, uncertain whether his twin wanted him to follow, and Gin bit his lip, balling up the towel in his mist to be cleaned.

The butterfly picked up the female's crumpled form and disappeared in a flutter of wings. When he would return many hours later, he would seek his bed immediately, having exerted more energy today than in the last several centuries. Grimmjow scurried after his mate. He didn't know what Ichi's mental state was, but he sure as Hell wasn't leaving him alone. Ulquiorra wrapped a comforting wing around his mate and Renji just heaved a deep sigh, kissed Gin, and said he'd be waiting back in their bed.

Shiro turned into Ulquiorra's embrace, and as he had for the last three years, he left the blue-haired panther to comfort his brother. The Mage mumbled a small spell, drawing on the Ley Line connected to his mate, to bolster them both, then he turned tired gold eyes to the emerald gaze of his bat, "Bed?"

Within the bedroom, with his back to the windows that opened on the courtyard, Ichigo breathed deeply, trying not to let his mind think in terms of humanity and being fair and all of the other things he'd grown up with. It resulted in a storm of guilt that was destroyed by anger and then washed over by pain, then drowned in a psychotic burble of relief knowing he'd gotten through his first official duty as King without anyone but the intended target getting hurt. He hadn't torn a rift in reality, and the world still operated normally. But he shivered, wrapping his arms around his ribs. His robes were piled on the floor, and the crown had shrunk to be a simple circlet he couldn't remove. It turned out that once the Crown of Judgement was donned it meant he accepted his role as King of Demons, but he had at least figured out how to make it less ostentatious.

It was finished. The curse broken, those laid to rest who should have been given eternal sleep centuries ago, and the Court of Souls re-established after millennia of chaos. Deaths could be recorded now. Wars could be won. Conquests could be claimed. And the turmoil and suffering of the world could be curtailed because the King had returned to alleviate Famine's pain. The sun set over Japan and the young man who bore the Crown rested his eyes, weary from only a day's worth of ruling.

Across the world, away from the blood, and the violence, and the darkness of Tokyo, the sunlight streamed over a field of waving grasses, the sky so blue it looked painted. There was a giggle and a boy of six toddled through the wildflowers with hair the color of sunshine and a wide infectious grin. He tripped over his shoe-lace, that he refused to allow his mother to tie, and tumbled onto the ground. He blinked at the rattling sound that started just in front of his nose. A snake, blotchy chevrons of dark brownish grey over a yellowy-cream, dark stripes like tears connecting its unblinking eyes to the corners of its sneering mouth. Before the boy could even make a sound, he'd be bitten, but then something landed on his nose. A large, white thing. Feelers caressed the boy's eyebrows, and tiny, tickling feet gripped his skin. There was the soft flutter of wings and the rattling stopped. The boy sat up, staring at the thing on his nose, and as the shimmering wings flapped lazily a few times there was a not-voice, soft and comforting on the breeze.

_I will always protect you, my Key._

Then the butterfly took off, in a swarm of the beautiful creatures, circling around the field and up into that azure sky, as the boy's mother dove on him in relieved tears. Together they watched as the butterflies blended into the clouds, disappearing from view, and the breeze pulled at the grasses, kissing their skin like the touch of a long lost lover.

_Just wait 'til you see it with your own eyes._


End file.
